


Across the Fiery Desert and Under a Blood Red Moon

by MistyBeethoven



Series: "Yes, I Really Am This Pathetic!" or "How to Say I Love You With a Story" [32]
Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Abduction, Action & Romance, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Assassins & Hitmen, Avoidant Personality Disorder, BBW, Bathroom Sex, Bathtub Sex, Bonding, Breasts, Cowgirl Position, Cunnilingus, Desert, Doggy Style, Drama & Romance, Enemies, Estrangement, F/M, Facials, Falling In Love, Fights, Floor Sex, Foot Jobs, For Adults Only, Forgiveness, Insecurity, Kidnapping, Kitchen Sex, Knotting, Lactation, Lap Sex, Large Breasts, Laundry, Loss of Virginity, Love, Love Confessions, Love Stories, Markers, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Nipple Play, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Omega Verse, Oral Sex, Overweight, POV Alternating, POV First Person, POV Third Person, Penis In Vagina Sex, Phone Calls & Telephones, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, Presents, Promises, Pursuit, Rain, Reconciliation, Reconciliation Sex, Relationship of Convenience, Rescue, Rescue Missions, Reunion Sex, Reunions, Revenge, Romance, Romantic Soulmates, Rutting, Scenting, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Ties & Cravats, Umbrellas, Undressing, Vendettas, Virginity, Weight Issues, Woman in the Refrigerator and she doesn't give a damn, bedmaking, mating of convenience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 08:55:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 43
Words: 132,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22967287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistyBeethoven/pseuds/MistyBeethoven
Summary: Having fallen back under the High Table's command in order to revoke his excommunicado status, the Alpha John Wick refuses to allow them to govern his sex life as well. He chooses me, a shy and overweight Omega female, in what is intended to be a mating of convenience, presumably without the High Table's knowledge.While John believes that he has won the Table's blessing, however, he discovers he is horribly wrong when, in the eighth month of my unexpected pregnancy, the Elder has me abducted and brought to his caravan in the desert. For the man who sits above the table has long desired revenge against Wick for disobeying his order to kill Winston. In his wrath, the Elder plans to let me give birth to John's child and then kill us both, an act which will destroy the assassin, who has already had to survive the loss of Helen, his first wife.As the caravan travels across the desert, I am able to communicate with my mate due to our bond; a bond that the Elder does not sever, wishing for Wick to suffer my moment of death. Now John Wick must find and rescue his yet unborn child and me, the woman he has come to love, before I go into labor and it is too late.
Relationships: Administrator & John Wick, Aurelio & John Wick, Aurelio & Winston, Bowery King & John Wick, Cassian & John Wick, Cassian (John Wick) & Me, Charlie & John Wick, Charon & John Wick, Helen Wick/John Wick, John Wick & John Wick's Unnamed Dog, John Wick & Winston, John Wick's Unnamed Dog & Me, John Wick/Me, Marcus & John Wick, Sofia & Aurelio, Sofia & Charon, Sofia (John Wick) & John Wick, Sofia (John Wick) & Winston, The Director & John Wick, The Elder & John Wick, The Elder (John Wick) & Me
Series: "Yes, I Really Am This Pathetic!" or "How to Say I Love You With a Story" [32]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589944
Comments: 77
Kudos: 95





	1. Under a Shared Umbrella

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been rolling around in my head for ages now. Even though I'm currently writing another fic in this series featuring me being kidnapped I could not let this one slip by. Nor could I incorporate it into the other fic because the Omegaverse is a strong component to the idea and "Grave Circumstances" is not set in that particular universe. 
> 
> So here it is now as a separate but in a way similar fic. But with sex and Alpha/Omega dynamics.
> 
> It's also tied to my Matrix entry to this series, "Keep on Dreaming," because I felt that was fun to do. What, with all the Matrix stuff to be found in the John Wick films, I got a kick connecting these too.
> 
> Starting off with a glimpse of a future love scene.
> 
> Well that I got kick out of as well.
> 
> So here we go...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I encounter a drenched and quiet Alpha male in a small cafe and offer to share my umbrella with him. Later on I am surprised to find the very same man outside of my apartment with a startling confession and a very tempting offer for a shy and vulnerable Omega like myself.

_John Wick was moving inside of me. A simple sliding of his length up and down the tunnel between my legs which were spread wide and already soaked wet with a mixture of my slick and his copious amount of precome. He'd been the first to tear me months ago when I had believed I was never going to be torn at all._

_"I love you," I said within my mind, hoping he would hear me. "I'm yours. Wherever you go I will follow. Take me now too."_

_His teeth clenched around the area on my neck where I had bitten the matching place on his own skin only seconds before. I could taste his blood still on my teeth and tongue, a thick and salty substance I inevitably compared to the taste of his cum but found very different._

_I felt his bite mark on the gland on my neck, closed my eyes and waited._

_I heard a voice deep inside of my mind. It was deep and familiar, a sound which always soothed me whenever I heard or even remembered it. It was John Wick's voice and it was steady, calm, reassuring and confident. "I'll follow you wherever you're going now also. And wherever you go, when we're apart, I will find you too. I promise."_

* * *

We first found each other on a rainy day. It was at a little cafe on the corner of a street in New York City and I had lowered my umbrella as I had entered the building and seen him almost immediately. I don't often look up; my shyness, so extreme that it is commonly known as Avoidant Personality Disorder, makes my gaze stick more or less to the ground. Contact makes me self conscious and my obsessive mind then seizes on it and makes me worry about what people are thinking about me and replay interactions repeatedly inside of my mind. So my eyes stay as low as my self esteem is usually. Only on that day they rested on the middle aged man, in the black suit, with the dark longish hair and heavy stubble or a light beard; I saw him only because he was sitting at the table I wanted.

It had always been my favorite in the cafe because it was the least likely to be seen. Only if you were looking for it did you really notice it at all, situated in the far left corner.

This time I saw the man because he was there. He was also soaking wet; a puddle lay at his feet but he seemed not to give a damn about the dampness of his dark suit or the discomfort that he must have been suffering. He must have come into the place to get dry. There was a glass of something in front of him but even from my distance I could tell it was hardly touched. It was no longer steaming also, hinting that it had been sitting there long enough to cool down.

I cursed my bad luck until i realized something: I was attracted to the man. Being a heterodemisexual Omega I do not find myself attracted to every single man that I meet. It is a rare occurrence for me to be attracted to someone immediately but this stranger had done it and confused me as well in the process. I walked deeper into the cafe with a dripping wet umbrella, trying to figure out what was attracting me to him. My mind often in a painful buzz of thoughts, I took a seat at a table close enough to the man to silently observe him; yet it was far enough away not to warrent his attention too.

He was quiet...that could have done it, I thought. His eyes stayed on the window outside; those same brown eyes looked quite sad and distant. He longed to be somewhere else and probably _with_ somebody else. That she was gone could be guessed by the way he seemed to carry a cloud of loneliness around him which rained down on his shoulders almost as heavily as the rain did outside. I couldn't tell if he was married or not: his ring finger had worrisomely been severed cleanly off.

Casting glances at him, I admired his build, the width of his shoulders, his height and his general broadness. He was an Alpha. You would have to be blind not to know it from one glance. His appearance spoke of masculinity, power, domination and violence, as all Alphas did in their way. But he had a calm to him that so many of them lacked. Maybe it was his sadness which had softened these other qualities but let him retain his strength. 

I felt a twinge of pain staring at him, feeling the first stirrings of a mock heat just from my attraction. My body had already gone through one only two weeks back and even these were often irregular. Either this was caused by my weight, which had been heavy since I was a child, or the stress I often suffered due to my depression. Looking at the man, though, I could feel my body wanting to react to him and return to its period of fertility. I did not long for this. I had no mate to protect me, was a virgin actually, and hated having to suffer alone and guard myself from any Alphas which might find me alone and vulnerable.

I whimpered where I sat, a sound like a small dog would make, and this warranted the man to suddenly turn his dark head and look at me. We both blushed in the cafe after our eyes met, the quiet and attractive older Alpha and the slightly younger shy and overweight Omega. We both quickly turned our heads to avert one another's gaze and ignore each other in the process.

A few seconds later the man stood from the table and started to walk out of the cafe. It was then that I realized that he did not have an umbrella with him and that was why he was still dripping drops of rain on to the tiled floor, becoming like a black cloud himself. The stranger walked away into the world outside of the cafe's shelter: a world where the rain was still falling.

I caught up to him outside where he had stopped for a moment still looking as lost as ever. The sound of the umbrella raising and the motion of my hand holding it over his head, so much higher than my own, won his attention and he looked at me in wary suspicion as if he was prepared to take me out right there and then if necessary.

"Here," I stated. "I'll follow you wherever you're going... So you don't get any more wet then you already are."

He still looked down at me with distrust and I expected to be drop kicked right there on the crowded street. It would probably make for an amusing sight: the plump girl landing her oversized ass in a puddle. It would wind up on YouTube with 500k hits 3456 thumbs up and 233 thumbs down. It would also serve as the perfect reminder of the Alpha that got away.

However, then he only nodded at me and mumbled, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," I nodded in return as we started to walk down the street together which had been spared the sight of my imagined humiliation.

When a dog showed up out of nowhere and joined us, a pitbull I thought, it just felt _normal_. No more out of place than finding the courage to share an umbrella with a man that you liked without exactly knowing why.

* * *

Dropping the stranger off at a Chinese restaurant a few blocks away, I expected never to see him again. I wanted something from him, though, and believed that a name would do well enough. It's hard to consider someone that has given you their name a stranger.

"John Wick," he stated while he stood in the doorway. I could tell he was searching my face for some sign of recognition but I couldn't give him any. I'd never heard the name before and it meant nothing to me other than that it belonged to him.

"Goodbye John Wick," I bid him farewell and started to walk away.

"Goodbye Erin," he said.

I turned around as swiftly as I could saying, "How did you..."

But the doorway was empty by the time I completed my rotation, Wick and his dog having vanished. Rushing to the window, I peered inside but saw no sign of John Wick or anybody else for that matter. I frowned and then sighed, feeling like that was the end of our brief and not quite friendship, before turning around and heading in the direction of the bookstore where a man had a copy of Edward Carey's "Obsevatory Mansions" waiting for me.

* * *

John Wick stood in the alleyway next to the Shanloon Chinese Food Restaurant, dog by his side, observing as the woman left to head to wherever she had been going before they had momentarily crossed paths. He knew her name and address since both had been written on the handle of the umbrella she had been holding but was well aware that the apartment where she lived was on the opposite side of the city.

It was where he would have to visit her tonight after his list of hits for the High Table had been completed for the day.

Before she had entered the cafe, John Wick had been thinking, as he had stared out the rain spattered window, a feeling of weariness and doom inside of him to match the dark grey clouds in the sky above.

Thoughts he often kept mostly to himself as he had done for most of his life. Only during his marriage to Helen and bonding with her had he successfully found the willpower to occassionally open up about his feelings and contemplations. Even then it had been a rare affair when the ex-assassin had felt able to convey what his heart felt into mere words. Words had always seemed unnecessary to him. He lived by his actions. They spoke louder and had helped him survive far longer than some letters strung together and which were often more false than they were true.

His introversion had never really mattered with Helen though. She had a way of knowing what he was thinking and feeling before they had established the ability to communicate telepathically. Their bodies had always been in perfect synch also. Memories flooded his mind of their matings. Whenever Helen had gone into heat, Wick had been there for her and their lovemaking had always fulfilled both of their needs and wants. At times it had been passionate, a violent and desperate occurrence which had left them exhausted and sometimes bruised. At other moments, it had been sweet and gentle, both of them tender in the depths of their desire. Always it was an act consisting of their love and devotion to each other.

After Helen had become ill, they had found their matings more on the cautious side. Oftentimes, the Omega had been in the hospital and so catching a moment when they could make love, or when Helen had enough strength or consciousness for it, was always difficult. In his grief, John knew that his normal ruttings were affected just as much as Helen's heats were as well. They had become less common to the point of almost being nonexistent.

Only after her death, his subsequent almost grecian ordeals and when the High Table had eventually let him back into the fold had he begun to feel the old stirrings start to take place once again. The heat in his groin, the inappropriate hard ons and the flashes of short temperedness that overtook him whenever he was near to an Omega in heat. These intrusions felt as much as a sin against Helen Wick as they did against his own self, John felt. For they reminded him that too much time had passed since his wife's passing and that even if his heart, mind and soul were still grieving his body was no longer doing so; his Alpha instincts having almost fully reawakened.

The Table, his new Masters, were aware of this as well, John Wick had discovered. Just like in all the matters of his life since he had reinstated his fealty to them, they insisted on trying to govern this also. Their motivations were clear and the assassin dreaded his suspicions of what they were planning, remembering the example of a former friend and colleague named Sofia from years beforehand. Every single action that the Table performed had been weighed with the future in mind. And all under their power and in their control were puppets to be used and eventually discarded when fresh meat made its inevitable appearance.

These had been the thoughts which had consumed Wick when the woman had entered the cafe, folding up her umbrella with the world printed on its heart. She was an Omega. John had scented this from her the moment she had first set foot in the place. Her heat had taken place half a month ago and was halfway to coming near again. She was overweight and about a decade younger than himself. Her hair was long and fell on her shoulders in waves of brownish red. When her gray-green eyes, beautiful and wide spaced, swept the cafe they rested on him and John knew he had stolen her desired table.

Still watching her from the corner of his eye, John Wick was surprised when she didn't turn and leave but walked into the cafe to try to watch him in secret. The woman had not ordered a beverage or the like and this was as much of a sign of her interest as the pretty large eyes he felt often landing on him. She was a timid thing. Sweet and on the verge of being in heat again although she probably wasn't even aware of it. He could smell it coming off of her in waves as strong as the raindrops violently falling down the glass he was staring out of or of the hair on top of her shy head.

Sensing himself growing hard from her closeness and the scent of her being an Omega, Wick had found himself becoming uncomfortable. When she had whimpered, sounding like a little stray puppy, he hadn't been able to prevent himself from turning to look at her. Their eyes met and they both had been horribly embarrassed and aware of each other. Still aroused, more so than before, he had abruptly stood and fled from the restaurant, knowing he had a High Table ordered hit in only an hour anyway and being excited and in a foul, unsatisfied mood would do him no favors in either surviving or completing it. 

The assassin had fled out of the restaurant as swiftly as he could, hoping that the rain falling outside would help to cool him off. He reasoned with himself that all he needed, after all, was just a moment.

And a moment was all it had taken. 

One second he was standing alone with the rain falling on his head like harmless bullets and the next moment his same dark head was being hit no more and their was the same shy, creature from the coffee shop holding an umbrella over his head and offering to follow him wherever he was going in order to spare him from becoming more wet.

And as he surprised himself by taking her up on it, John Wick had thought of another offer he could extend to the woman in return if he managed to make it through yet another miserable, long, blood soaked day.

* * *

Later that night in my apartment, I sat on my couch holding my pillow as I thought about the man I had shared my umbrella with. There are people you meet in your life that you think of every now and again even though they seemed to be merely passing through. It felt almost right that that was what this John Wick was to be to me. I had seen him, we had walked together without barely speaking and then he was gone. It seemed very certain that I'd never see him again. But God liked to laugh at me whenever I made any little assumption and a few minutes later, after trying to file John Wick safely under this category inside of my mind, I heard a rapping on my window and cautiously went to it only to find the object of my thoughts staring back at me from the other side.

Getting on my knees, I lifted the window to see my new acquaintance kneeling on the fire escape outside. He looked weary and tired but far more dry than when I had left him.

"What are you doing here? How did you know where I lived?" I asked, surprised and curious about why and how he had ended up at my apartment.

He didn't answer either of those questions, only choosing to ask his own instead, "Can I come in?"

Staring into his eyes, him on the one side of the window sill and me on the other, I tried to weigh my answer carefully. I knew his name but John Wick was still a stranger in many ways. He was also an _Alpha_. Being an Omega I knew the danger that fact always presented. No matter how sweet and innocuous an Alpha might seem they could easily turn if the option presented itself. While many of them preferred to wait for Omegas to go into heat to claim them, some enjoyed forcing themselves on one just as a sport. I was larger, not exactly marked as an easy target, and had luckily avoided this but knew that it was possible. John Wick seemed decent but so had many of the serial killers you read about in the newspaper or watched the biographies of on A&E.

But the man was adorable, like a lost puppy dog, so I foolishly let him in without letting another tick sound from my overly noisy clock on the wall.

John Wick climbed into my apartment and as he passed by me I noticed a smear of red on the window threshold over which he had just crossed. I looked at the substance, knowing what it was before I touched it and brought it to my nose in order to smell: it was blood.

My eyes widened as I turned to look at my unexpected apartment guest and saw that the front of his white shirt had been covered in blood. It was the same pattern that you'd see on a forensic show from when it was displayed as having sprayed out of some poor guy's head after being shot. I then saw the brief glimpse of that very same weapon used to perform the task stuffed in John Wick's pants..

"You...you've got blood on you," I commented after a loud swallow and while I still knelt on the floor.

"I just killed six men today," he stated as if it was a normal thing to say: the day had been rainy, he had a mocha he hadn't touched at a little cafe, shared an umbrella with a stranger and went on to knock off six men afterwards. 

"Have you ever heard of the High Table, Erin?" he then asked looking at me very seriously while I had been staring at him in shock, fumbling to find the right words to say.

I shook my head. "I know the Round Table...that's about it...King Arthur, Merlin, Guinevere and Lancelot..."

He offered to me a small smile before he shocked me with his next question.

"Would you like to mate with me?" John Wick asked as if the words meant nothing at all.


	2. Within A Week

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Wick makes a proposal to me and grants me seven days to make a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday the 13th everyone! Funny there's one this month to go along with St. Patrick's Day. The unlucky and the lucky. Although Friday the 13th was always my mom's lucky day! :D <3
> 
> I hope you are all well. :) <3

The hits having been successfully completed, John Wick made his weary way to the address he had seen written on the handle of his good Samaritan's umbrella. The woman didn't live in the worst part of the city but it was far from the wealthiest either and he only hoped this would further help him in his endeavor to keep her hidden from the High Table's eyes. They would never expect him to willingly choose an Omega whom lived in modest wealth not when they offered to him the richest, the most elite and those whom were coveted. They would recall after all the time when Gianna D'Antonio had been his lover, glittering and cursedly rich as she was, or Sofia, brutal yet beautiful and not exactly impoverished herself.

With a certain amount of guilt he recalled that even Helen had been quite well off and independent when he had first met her and their life had certainly been possessed of every desired comfort imaginable. The house he had shared with her had been a magnificent structure before its destruction and Wick knew that it would no doubt make Erin's small, assumably one room flat look like the washroom at a Walmart.

Still, it had never been the glamour which had drawn him to those women, John Wick knew. It had been the strength and self confidence of their very different personalities. Yet the High Table would primarily see it in regards to power and affluence. Concerned with their games of power and money they hardly ever looked to the workings of the human heart, preferring to center on bank accounts and how much money or gold coins could successfully fit inside of a suitcase exchanging hands in this abandoned warehouse or that. They probably saw him in part still as nothing more than a very well skilled and talented lackey. One that liked to climb up social ladders by attaching himself to people whom were important. Assassins were not looked at highly by those who pulled the strings. Feared, yes; respected, no.

The only time the Table actually concerned themselves with love was when it made their target weak and could thus be used. But Wick vowed to himself that that would never become the case with this woman. The Table would never learn of her and besides...He was still so very much in love with Helen falling in love with Erin was an impossibility. His body may be calling out with its own urges and demands but the heart was a different matter entirely and belonged solely to the woman he had buried in a cemetary one rainy day which now felt like ages ago.

Dog stayed loyally at his heel while they weaved in and out of the crowd on the New York City street. It was hard for John not to remember when Gianna's brother, Santino, had first placed a hit on him after having called in a marker for his own sister's blood. Following his murder of the bastard, it having been his only real choice after the male D'Antonio sibling had sought sanctuary on Continental ground, Wick could easily recall the horror of his excommunicado status. Having broken the Continental's primary rule of no business preformed on its grounds, he had been hunted by everyone under the High Table's command and some below it as well. It was difficult not to feel as if everybody was still a potential enemy out for his blood.

But his status had been lifted two times, John Wick knew, and he was now no longer hunted.

Or no more than usual anyway.

If anybody was following him it would be only somebody also under the Table's command. Most probably a Checkman as they were called. It was a Checkman's duty to keep tabs on those the Table deemed to be their property or to make sure that certain tasks had been committed. Sometimes it was also so former famous figures in their world were closely monitored. Nobody truly ever escaped the watchful eye of the Table. Rumours had long floated around that Orwell based Big Brother off of the organization, after all.

Following his agreed upon retirement by a mobster named Viggo Tarasov, and his subsequent marriage to Helen, John Wick had become aware that such a Checkman had been set up in his neighborhood, as a policeman, in order to keep an eye on him. The guy's name had been Jimmy. John had managed to place the man in how long as it took to say "Hi."

But Jimmy, while initially being irritated that his cover had been blown, had been relatively harmless and affable. They had even become friends, Jimmy, Helen and himself. It's hard to hate a guy who spilled half a bottle of ketchup on himself once when they had him over for a barbeque. Hard to see him as much of a threat either despite the badge and gun.

Now that he was reinstated, the Checkman, or men as it were, would not be so innocuous. And given his past unfaithfulness they would be even more diligent. Still Wick hoped that after having served the Table well for a while now they were beginning to trust him slightly more. Or that, at least, they were more preoccupied with making sure that all the hits had been performed as instructed.

It gave him enough time to make it to the Omega's apartment and extend to her the intended offer.

Rushing there as quickly as he could, John did not catch sight of any possible Checkmen or feel as if he were being followed. By the time he reached the fire escape to the apartment building, he hoped that Erin would be a night owl and wouldn't have headed to bed already. If she were sleeping he feared interrupting her might make her suspect he was a rapist of some sort. He started to climb the stairs and Dog followed. Halfway up, the Alpha hitman stopped and knelt down in front of the canine. "Stay," he instructed.

Dog began to sniff his shirt and for the first time John looked down and realized that it was covered in one of his victims' blood. He exhaled sharply. Going back to change had never been an option and he was often so drenched in other people's blood these days that he hadn't even realized it. Staring at the crimson stain, the assassin guessed that it was as good of a warning to the Omega as she was ever likely to get. If he could walk in there with the front of his shirt splattered with blood and she still wished to accept his offer she'd know what to expect Knowing John Wick would always be a dangerous situation in of itself and she should be made aware of it.

"Good boy," John Wick praised Dog once more and then proceeded up the stairs on his own.

Knowing which window was the one that he sought hadn't been too difficult. Years of training at the Tarkovsky theater and with Marcus afterwards had enabled him to figure out such details. And years spent inactive with Helen had not made him too rusty. Peeking in through the window, Wick knew he had guessed correctly when he saw the woman he had just met that day sitting on a sofa in a nicely decorated little apartment. She was in a purple nightshirt and clutching a pillow to her chest as she looked off deep in thought. Wick thought she looked kind of cute like that, plump and soft but she also seemed very meek and vulnerable. Both words he would never have paired with any of his previous lovers. He preferred women whom were self assured, bold and confident despite their Omega or Beta natures. The Omega sitting alone on her couch was obviously the opposite to his usual taste. That would serve his purpose in the long run too, John Wick told himself. The attraction he had felt towards her in the cafe must surely have been solely due to her upcoming heat and his own rutting. 

He didn't need to worry about betraying Helen or blaming himself for getting an erection in her presence. Nor did he have to worry about falling in love with her also. She wasn't his type and he was still in love with a dead woman.

Suddenly feeling too much like a peeping Tom as he stared at the sad faced female, Wick rapped on the window earning her attention and ending his shameful act of spying. Erin immediately went to the window and knelt down. Amusement flashed through the hitman's soul as he saw surprise visible in her wide gray green eyes. She opened the window quickly, asking, "What are you doing here? How did you know where I lived?" 

"Can I come in?" he asked not bothering to answer the first question, knowing that the answer would come soon enough. The second...well... he was there that was enough and she'd figure it out when she knew him more and the next time she saw her umbrella.

She motioned him in before another tick had been made from the clock on her wall which the assassin could even hear from his place on the fire escape. John Wick climbed inside smearing blood on the windowsill without even realizing it.

He looked around the apartment, liking it even more that he was now inside of it. It was a sweet little place. Comfortable and cozy. And somewhat cluttered and messy too. In that instance, he liked that it wasn't like the posh and regal settings he was used to. His life was a mess; that his intended lover's place was too seemed rather fitting.

"You...you've got blood on you," Erin commented after a loud swallow and while she still knelt on the floor. The look of shock on her face was almost comical, her eyes so big and round she looked like Tweety Bird from an old Warner Bros. Cartoon.

"I just killed six men today," John stated and he hated how it came out so casual sounding, as if it were a normal occurrence to take six human lives. But, then again, for him it was, he thought sadly.

"Have you ever heard of the High Table, Erin?" he asked, following his shame to its source and wishing to insure that the woman was as innocent as she seemed.

She shook her head. "I know the Round Table...that's about it...King Arthur, Merlin, Guinevere and Lancelot..."

John Wick smiled in amusement. He wished that the organization was like that: gallant instead of brutal, benevolent instead of malevolent, generous and not selfish. He hated having to introduce this woman into that world even if he intended to keep her forever safely at its side. Staring down at Erin on the floor, a bit of her cleavage showing without her seeming to realize it, sensing that she was on the verge of another heat, something she also failed to know, the Alpha felt a flash of lust again, his rutting reappearing and his instincts taking hold. He blurted out the next question without being fully aware that he was even doing so.

"Would you like to mate with me?" John Wick asked, feeling right then that the words were the most important to him in that moment but hearing them spoken as if they were nothing more than a formulaic question.

How she would respond made all the difference in the world, Wick understood, as he watched her blushing, stupefied face for some indication of an answer. If she told him to get out or called for help he knew his plans, like so many others in his life, had fallen hopelessly apart. Anything else he could work on.

Erin was staring at him in shock, looking him up and down from his shining yet muddy black shoes to his somewhat greasy dark hair. The look in her eyes was unreadable and he feared she was about to tell him to go to Hell when she merely asked, "What? Right now?"

* * *

I saw John Wick smile more widely at my reply. I obviously had pleased him in some way. But honestly it was all that I could think of to say. Having a man show up at my window covered in blood and asking to mate with me should have warranted me telling him to go to Hell. But I couldn't with this man. I liked him. John Wick had already shown that he was honest: he could have gone back to change out of his blood soaked clothing and returned with a bottle of wine and roses if he were only interested in deceiving and seducing me. Instead he came wearing a suit which spoke of violence and openly confessed as much. And I was still as much attracted to him as I was before, looking him up and down I was very much aware of this.

"No, not right now," he replied with a laugh. "When you go into heat two weeks from now."

"I was just in heat," I countered. "And those are never that reliable."

"It will happen," he said assuredly. "Trust me."

I realized that he had probably sensed it on me and felt my face turning red. It was as if my attraction to him the moment I had seen him in the cafe had initiated another heat. My darn, foolish hormones getting the best of me the moment I saw a good looking man in a suit that had compelled me in a way my demisexuality usually forbade. Even now I sensed that he was right. Not enjoying the prospect of going into heat again so soon, the pain of the week before, the constant fear of being taken against my will and the always unanswered and burning need and arousal, I frowned and looked at the floor of my apartment, whimpering. 

"I can help," John claimed, seeing my distress. "I will protect you and be there to satisfy your needs. Just like you will satisfy mine."

I was about to ask him how he knew that I had no mate but then stopped myself. Being an Alpha Male, and knowing I had just been in heat, he would have been able to tell if I had been scented by or had sex with another Alpha. I blushed. Odds are, however, he still didn't know that I had never mated at all. That was a secret for myself unless I surrendered to his proposal. Then discovery seemed almost inevitable.

"Why would you choose me?" I asked. "I'm overweight and I'm shy as anything. Awkward. My brain is a mess most of the time. I'm OCD if you didn't smell that on me too."

John Wick smiled as he came to squat down in front of me. "I chose you for those reasons. This is for convenience. I'm an assassin, Erin. My employers, the High Table, are trying to tell me whom I should mate with now also."

"Why would they do that?" I asked, hating to keep asking questions but being so much in the dark it was really the only choice.

John Wick looked as if he were weighing what he should or shouldn't tell me. Even now his offer seemed to have fine print. However, I could sense from the man's already unflinching honesty that this was based more on the fact that he was trying to keep me safe. I warmed even more to him in that second but hoped he wouldn't be able to tell that. I wanted the freedom to say no and didn't want to disappoint him.

"The High Table has existed for generations before us," he informed me. "They will exist for generations after. They are keeping an eye to the future, so to speak. If they breed me with another superior assassin they think they'll be insured a John Wick for their successors."

"Are you really that good?" I asked in a mixture of skepticism and awe, trying to raise an eyebrow.

"Yes," he answered stone faced. "I am."

I looked down at his shirt and thought of the six men he had killed today. Guessing that the fluid was proof enough, I reached out to touch the blood seeped fabric. It felt cold now on my thumb where once I knew it had been warm and keeping some person alive. Now the man it had once flowed through was similarly becoming cold somewhere out in New York city. "So you'll let them tell you who to kill but not whom to fuck," I remarked sadly.

"It's just a job," he retaliated. "If it wasn't me doing it, it would be someone else."

"You said you were the best though," I reminded him.

"It doesn't mean that I like it," he returned. Searching his deep brown eyes I could see that he was telling me the truth then as well.

I took my fingers away from his shirt but didn't wipe them off on a clean patch of it before I did. This man was already covered in enough blood and, stranger that he virtually was, I couldn't stand him bearing anymore so I kept it for myself to lighten his load a bit.

"Can I think about it?" I asked.

"I'll give you a week," he stated. "After that I have to check out other options."

"Options?" I smirked. "So if I say no you just choose someone else? That's what this is?"

"I can't afford not to," he stated coldly. "I would rather not bring any children into the world. Especially not for the Table to use. And all this is is business, Erin. I can never love you."

I hated the way his words wounded me and the ache I felt inside of my heart. Lowering my head, though, I saw John Wick's missing finger and remembered his sad face staring out of the rain shattered window in the cafe, where we had met, and knew that he had been hurt too somewhere along the line.

"How do I contact you when I've made my decision?" I asked.

He looked pleased as if he had already thrown at me the items he considered to be the worst dealbreakers and now was only relieved that I was even still talking to him. "You don't; I contact you."

I was about to say that it seemed like a pretty shoddy idea when the assassin leaned over, took my head in his hands and kissed the top of my head.

"Goodbye Erin," he bade me my farewell before hopping out the window suddenly and clambering down the fire escape stairs. 

I watched him as he met with a big gray blur halfway down them, presumably his dog that I didn't know the name of yet, and then made it to the alleyway and then the sidewalk. After that, he was gone, leaving me alone and with a week to decide what my answer would be when next he contacted me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is fun and tricky to write with the different perspectives. First time I've done it. Read a book with it once though. With this story it is needed to showcase John's feelings. Otherwise it would be unfair and kind of boring. Although it might be that way anyway :/


	3. On a Fire Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The High Table sends a gift to John Wick's suite at the Continental while I decide whether or not to take the Alpha up on his offer.

On his way back to his room at the Continental, John Wick felt more relieved than he had in weeks. There had finally been presented to him an option which would offer him a way out from the predicament that the High Table had placed him in. As if by Providence, the perfect Omega mate had happened to cross his path

She was ignorant of the High Table and its sordid workings, she was the exact opposite of the mate they would choose for him (her OCD being another genetic factor which would make any child that may be conceived unsuitable in the Table's eyes and hopefully save them for unwanted interest), the opposite of the mate they would _expect_ for him to ever choose and she had not seemed as opposed to his proposal as he had feared.

John Wick also had found her to be sweet and tolerable, somebody Helen would have approved of but needn't be irrationally jealous of in any way. There was no chance of him falling for the woman after all. Their relationship would never actually need to become that close except for the moments when Erin went into heat.

Why, however, he had been compelled to kiss her suddenly disturbed Wick; even if it had only been the top of her head. Possibly it was her sweetness and vulnerability. No, John thought to himself. It had probably been her seeming acceptance of the fact that he was an assassin; that while he had come to her window with blood covering his shirt, no less, she had still been willing to contemplate becoming his lover.

That had been a fact which had always placed a certain strain on his relationship with Helen even during the best of times following his retirement. She had never been comfortable with his past and had longed to forget about it entirely and pretend that it did not exist. But a killer he had been; it was a part of himself that he could not entirely erase no matter how many flowers were planted in the garden, barbeques they had in their backyard or books he had restored in his then adopted profession. He had killed far more people then he could ever fool himself into thinking he could atone for by simply saying grace before his meals.

Maybe God had known this also, John thought, affording for his fallen child no more grace itself and having him fall straight back into Hell following Helen's agonizingly slow death.

But Erin, while being properly unnerved, had seemed open enough to view it as a job alone and not as a dealbreaker as someone more morally rigid may have done. If she could accept that one horrible fact of his existence, that he took human lives as his profession, she may be willing to accept the offer presented to her.

And in time, to forgive him or show compassion enough to realize that it was not something that he truly _wanted_ to do.

Although why this was important to him, as well, was another question which unnerved him.

As if knowing that his mind had turned unpleasantly to business, Wick heard his cellphone ring while he was halfway to the Continental. Dog looked up at him with sorrowful eyes, knowing that his master rarely liked any calls that he received these days.

"Mr. Wick," the voice of the Administrator came from the other end after John had stopped to answer it, fearing it would only raise suspicions if he didn't. "You did not check in with me after your tasks had been completed."

John cursed himself. It was one of those bureaucratic pieces of red tape which often skipped his mind. With his mind preoccupied with seeing Erin with the proposal, it had been pushed so far back it had not even occurred to him to remember.

"Sorry," John Wick apologized. "I forgot."

"That has been happening a lot recently," the Administrator commented. "I was also informed that it took you nearly twice as long as normal to complete the missions assigned to you."

Another inward curse as John realized that the Checkman had been tailing him all along to report on his efficiency. John Wick only hoped the informant had been so busy reporting to his superiors following the day's murders that he had missed the personal and unscheduled visit to an apartment in a different part of the city.

"The Table wishes me to once again let you know that they are fully aware of the trouble that the delicate times of your ruttings present, Mr. Wick," the Administrator informed in his usual emotionless tone. "That you are not able to complete the tasks presented to you with your usual high quality is of the greatest concern to them. Be aware that they have left a certain gift for you in your room at the Continental. Please use it. As with all of its property, the Table understands the inconveniences of both the heats and ruttings of its employees and allows the necessary time away for it. Please enjoy yourself and have a good day."

And with that the prissy bastard hung up.

John Wick placed the phone back in his pocket and looked down at Dog whom was still looking up at him regretfully.

"It's okay," John said, patting the canine's head, knowing that it wasn't but not wanting one of his only friends to be fretful.

It didn't work.

Dog was worried anyway

* * *

At the Continental, John had the misfortune of bumping into the man he had in the past considered to be one of his only friends too. Winston, the manager for the Continental, was crossing the lobby and they almost accidentally bumped into each other.

"I say watch where you're..." the Englishman was saying until he took his eyes off of the slip of paper he had been studying pensively beforehand to see who he had collided with.

"I'd recommend you watch where you're going as well," Wick stated stonily before trying to walk past the older man on his way to the front desk.

"I really am sorry Jonathan," Winston shouted out in a reserved tone but Wick refused to hear the apology or acknowledge it.

More and more the hotel manager had been saying that one specific word "sorry" to him and John Wick realized that it was never really about bumping into him, or his Blanton's bourbon not be in stock or the many other reasons that the man tried to fool himself into believing the apologies were about. Winston was apologizing to him for his one act of ultimate betrayal: shooting him off of the Continental's rooftop in order to keep both his life and job as the hotel's manager.

To John Wick, however, no amount of "sorrys" would ever be enough.

To his relief, Winston did not follow him to the front desk and John was only greeted by the always painfully polite visage of Charon, the Concierge. Dog smiled up at the handsome, black man with the shining hairless head and John didn't have the heart to inform his furry companion that he was equally pissed off at Charon for having supported Winston's actions. Dog had spent too much time with Charon while he had been on the run, Wick realized, for the animal to ever hate the man. The assassin also realized that it was hypocritical in a way for him to blame the Concierge too.

He had just told Erin that taking human lives was nothing more than a job to him: Maybe to Charon kissing Winston's ass was just a downside to his own profession also.

"Good evening Mr Wick," Charon greeted, his eyes lowering to the blood stain on the front of John Wick's shirt. "Can I call the launderer for you?"

"I think that would be best," John agreed. "I heard that the Table has also sent a little gift to my suite."

"Have they? We were not informed."

"I heard it is of a _personal_ matter," John Wick stated.

A look of understanding crossed Charon's features. "If you don't mind me saying, Sir, it would be best if the Table kept its nose out of such affairs."

John gave the Concierge an honest smile. "My thoughts exactly Charon. My thoughts exactly."

* * *

It was with more apprehension than he had encountered during his day's worth of hits that John Wick opened the door to his suite. Not sure of what to expect, his anxiety was no bit lessened when the air brought to him the first whiffs of an Omega in heat and his eyes landed on a woman sprawled out on his bed in nothing more than a pure white babydoll. Her skin was pale like ivory, her hair almost the exact shade and shaved completely off on one side. Her eyes were the color of the blue sky over Elysian and catlike and she was using them to look up at him lustfully while she batted her thickly painted lashes. Her pupils and mascara were the darkest items featured in her whole displayed body.

"Hello John Wick," she greeted in far more scintillating a tone than Charon had done.

"Hello Leuce," Wick offered in return.

He knew her only somewhat well and that was mostly following his return to the fold. She was an assassin of the highest calibur, having replaced Sofia's ranking after the latter's retirement from the field and taking over the Continental in Morocco. Leuce was about thirty years old and known for wearing only clothing of white; she did so in order to brag that she could perform her appointed missions without getting a single drop of blood on her.

Seeing Wick's own blood smattered apparel, the woman pouted and slinky crawled out of the bed she had been lying and presumably waiting on for a long time before his arrival. As she neared, John caught another scent of her slick and felt himself growing hard against his will.

"You've gotten yourself dirty," she purred, grabbing a part of his shirt that had not been splattered with arterial spray. "Why don't you take it off..."

She wrapped her arms around the Alpha's neck and lowered his head towards her mouth for a kiss, careful to still avoid coming into contact with the mess of crimson covering him. John Wick suddenly remembered Erin kneeling on the floor of her apartment as she had touched the blood on his dress shirt. She had done it as if to come into contact with the people he had killed and to show them respect in some small way.

Although he was still becoming as hard as a railroad spike from the scent of the Omega's heat, Wick managed to loosen Leuce's hold and push her aside. Walking away, he heard her crawling back into the bed behind him.

"What are you doing here, Leuce?" he asked, beginning to remove his tie and facing away from her.

"That's rather _obvious_ isn't it?" she asked with a condescending laugh.

John Wick turned to find her staring at him, wearing a cruel little smile. "You're rutting and I'm in heat. We're also the best the Table has to offer. They're pooling their bets and hoping that we'll offer them your genes and mine combined for an even better assassin than the both of us for their children and grandchildren."

Tossing his tie aside, John neared the bed without realizing he was doing it, the slick calling him forwards. Still he was safe with the woman's reluctance to get herself dirty, he assumed. "And _you_ would agree to be out of commission for nine months?"

Leuce's expression turned to one of distaste. "The thought of being fat and spending hours in labor does nothing for me...but the payment the Table has offered and the chance of saying I was the one to bear the Baba Yaga's child? Well that is _priceless_."

Before he anticipated it, the Omega had spread her legs and slid her body to the end of the bed. Wrapping her feet around his middle. She pulled him down on top of her and John Wick realized that so consumed was she with the prospect of wealth and prestige that she had momentarily forsaken her rule to remain bloodless. Their lips locked as they fell into a violent kiss. John's Alpha instincts were taking over his common sense and wishes; he felt his cock wanting to burst through the fabric of his trousers so he could just be inside of the Omega and be done with it.

As he struggled with his belt and brushed against Leuce's flat stomach her words echoed through his mind,

_"The thought of being fat and spending hours in labor does nothing for me..."_

Once again he remembered the woman he had met only that morning in the cafe, her own much larger stomach and the insecurity she had confessed to him less than an hour ago in regards to it.

_"Why would you choose me?" I'm overweight..."_

He remembered too, Erin's sad face when he had stated he would look for other available options. Although she had just met him, the shy Omega did seem to genuinely hold some affection and compassion for him.

Wick looked down into the winter cold face of Leuce and the hungry and selfish look in her eye. Her self confidence stood out strikingly against Erin's self doubt. Leuce believed that everything was hers or should be; that she was beautiful and deserving. Affection and compassion were no more a part of her make up than it was of any one of the twelve whom sat at the Table. Suddenly John remembered every single reason why he hated the High Table and could not allow himself to surrender to this plan of theirs.

Even if he had succumbed to their previous one of turning him into an assassin once more.

John Wick grabbed the Omega beneath him but not in the way that she had hoped. Violently he threw her from the bed with a roar of anger and she fell on to the ground, landing on her long, ivory legs.

"GET OUT!" he shouted in a wrath that frightened her enough to rise immediately on those same long limbs.

As Leuce stood, she looked down at her now stained babydoll and John Wick witnessed the look of hatred overtaking the previous one of terror. Snarling at her and leaping from the bed, John Wick returned to the woman her fright and she ran from the room with the skillful speed and grace which had made her infamous.

Locking the door behind him, John knew it was useless since she had found a way in before, but it eased his nerves somewhat. He returned to the bed and sat on its edge, running both hands through his greasy dark hair. There would be Hell to surely pay. The look of humiliation, horror and hatred in Leuce's eyes had promised that much. Rejection was just as repellant to her as blood and she would call soon one day for revenge to comfort her wounded pride.

In the throes of his own self-condemnation, John felt Dog come and place his head on his knee in a show of comfort. 

"Good boy," John praised and felt a little better.

He had not given in and had sex with her, John offered himself his own comfort despite the pain of an unsatisfied erection that would likely take an hour to go away unless he helped it first. And he had not wounded either his promise to give Erin a week to make her decision or betrayed or shamed Helen by following his love for her with a mating with a woman whom would have undoubtably appalled her.

Thinking of Helen Wick, John closed his eyes, lay down on his still warm bed and began to touch himself, using one pain to effectively solve another.

* * *

Heading off to work on the rainy last day before I was to give John Wick my decision, I grabbed the umbrella out of my closet and looked at the handle, clearly seeing my address. I shook my head and laughed as I realized that this was how Wick had found out where I lived. Apparently his work as an assassin had made him horribly observant. Opening the door to my apartment and locking it, I wondered if the man knew that I would find this out eventually and if that was the reason why he hadn't even bothered to answer my question.

Rushing down the crowded city sidewalk on my way to ErosPsyche Publishing House, _"Let Your Lust Lead You to Your Soul,"_ I stopped and wondered what on earth this High Table was exactly that had supposedly employed John Wick to be a hitman for them. Were they all around us? Did I pass them everyday like I had encountered Wick himself in that little coffee shop? Were they mobsters or something else entirely?

I had tried to do a Google search of them shortly after John had left me. All I had come up with were IKEA and similar sites centering on furniture. Except when I had delved a little deeper I had kept encountering several pages that turned up "website cannot be found," or 404 errors. These unnerved me as equally did the few blurbs remaining in Google: Sentences about an underworld organization that controlled _everything_. I suddenly didn't trust mostly anything I had ever thought I knew. Nor did I trust myself completely. If John Wick had come to me because this High Table was trying to control him to the extent that they wanted to dictate his lovers and use him to create future assassins I couldn't stand getting the poor man in further trouble by betraying him in some way.

At ErosPsyche, I quickly folded my umbrella and went to my solitary little desk. My boss, Christopher, was already familiar with my anxiety issues, OCD and AVPD. Maybe being African American he was used to being mistreated and had his own problems to deal with. From what I heard, he kept mostly to himself and had suffered a major health crisis fairly recently. I had no idea what his personal life was or if he even _had_ one. But he was fairly understanding.

Fairly.

I studied the papers littering my desk and rolled my eyes and let out a little gust of breath from the corner of my mouth. ErosPsyche was a publishing firm which centered on pornographic material. There was no way to lie to myself about it. Certainly not when I had been employed as a typist for them. My fingers were fast though and the company had been one of the only places willing to hire me after I had first moved to New York. I dreamt of being a writer myself one day but typing up other author's work seemed to be the best I could hope for in the time being.

As I sat down behind the computer at my desk, Christopher appeared out of the blue and made a chair out of the corner of the desk itself. He fixed me with an intense stare which was common to him. "Erin there were quite a few errors yesterday. Is your OCD bad this week or should I be aware of something?"

I sighed and cursed myself. With John Wick's proposal always on my mind I hadn't been able to focus properly on my work. Fast I had been but not particularly efficient. Plus, as it would seem, I could feel that the assassin had been right: another heat was on the way, heralded by another _pre_ heat which was always painful and made my anxiety and clumsiness soar.

"I think I'm going into heat again soon," I informed my boss.

"Dammit Erin...another?" Christopher stated. "Weren't you just in one?"

I nodded.

"Maybe typing out all of this fucking smut isn't good for you. Makes your body get ideas," he theorized. Although he published said smut, the editor's opinion of it was well known throughout the office. "You found a mate yet?"

"No!" I said. My Alpha boss always asked this, not because he was interested in being one for me, but because he believed if I had a mate my mental health would improve for some reason and that I would, at least, be protected.

"Well just try to do better okay," he warned, leaving me alone and off to peruse the manuscripts that ended up in the slush pile.

It was amazing ErosPsyche was still doing somewhat okay with the amount of porn available on the internet. I tried to collect my thoughts and get down to work but it was almost hopeless. Trying to forget about John Wick's offer to take care of my heats was difficult when I had to keep typing words like cock, cunt, balls, nipples, come, ejaculation, labia, breasts, erection, vulva and orgasm. Those words passing before me five days a week, I realized that it would be nice to finally experience them for a change instead of merely reading and transcribing them. I didn't mind dying a virgin before I had encountered Wick because I'd never before met somebody I was honestly attracted to who was interested in me in return. Now I had but he was a hired killer for a shady organization.

Then again, there I was working as a typist for a pornographic publishing company. We all did things to earn a living which we weren't exactly happy or proud of. Sighing, I tried once more to continue and keep both my meditations, decision making and dirty thoughts for my lunch break.

When that finally came, I returned to the little cafe where I had met John Wick in the hope that I would see the man again. I didn't but I was able to sit at my table and stare out at almost the same rain soaked view the man had witnessed. Seeing it made me feel close to John and I accepted that I was obsessed with him. He had barely left my thoughts and even now I was praying to God that he'd walk through the cafe's doors.

Obsession felt too much like love, though, and he had already told me that he could _never_ feel that for me.

Not for the first time, I wondered if he had chosen me because my large size didn't appeal to him at all so he didn't have to worry about falling in love with me. This thought I pushed aside quickly enough whenever it reappeared. He still needed to have sex with me and if a big girl disgusted him no amount of heat would help him be able to mate with me. No, it wasn't because I was fat that he couldn't love me.

John was still so much a stranger I could not completely fathom his reasons but I knew then that I desperately wanted to. I knew myself well enough to know that if I didn't take the chance to find out more about John Wick, and spend some more time with the man, I would regret it for the rest of my life.

There really was only one answer for me to give him when the seven days had reached their end.

* * *

A week from the night John Wick had turned up at my window I sat on the fire escape outside in the same purple nightie. I chose the middle step on the flight before my own and patiently waited. This step was my favorite, always reminding me of the A.A. Milne song, one of my favorites since I was a kid. When I both heard the sound of shoes hitting the metal of the steps and felt it vibrating to where I sat, I peered down and saw the top of John Wick's dark head climbing the stairs. He looked tired and beaten down, even more so then the last time I had seen him.

"Hey!" I called out while he was still a flight away.

He looked up, searching until he found me and we stared at each other through the spaces of the steel steps.

"Hi," he grunted in return.

I saw him taking in the fact that I was sitting on the fire escape in little more than my nightie. His eyes trailed down my body to my legs and a shock of blue passed through me as his gaze came to rest on the space between them and lingered there. I wasn't wearing underwear. Sometimes it was more comfortable not to for me. In the area he was admiring, I felt a sudden heat and swelling in response to his gaze and the want for him to keep looking. He averted his eyes suddenly, however, in a moment of chivalry.

"It's dangerous to be sitting out here like that," he stated, looking to his side and I thought that he was blushing.

"I was waiting for you," I replied, closing my legs so he would look at me again.

"It's still dangerous," he muttered, his head turning, knowing it was safe now to look again.

"Even if you're going to protect me?" I stated.

"Yes. Even if..."

Our eyes remained locked while he registered exactly what my words meant.

The Alpha clambered up the rest of the steps until suddenly he was only one away from me. "Are you sure?" John Wick asked.

"Yes," I confirmed, adding softly so nobody would overhear, "I will be your mate _, John Wick_."

Suddenly I was in the air as he smiled and lifted me briefly, both of us laughing. Then his arms were holding me tightly and kissing the top of my head again. Releasing me, John looked confused and embarrassed. Although, I could not figure out why exactly. We'd be doing far more than just a hug and a kiss on the hair in about a week's time.


	4. Outside of an Obligation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Wick and I discuss our arrangement and I inform my boss that I will need time off.

I invited John Wick back inside of my apartment and we started to tentatively work out our arrangement. After that wonderful moment between us out on the fire escape I had almost forgotten that this was intended solely as a _business_ arrangement. But John Wick seemed intent on reminding me of this as I sat on my sofa and he stood before me plotting out the first of my heats to be shared together as if it was just another one of his hits.

"I'll bring you a Doctor's report to show you that I'm fine physically," he informed me somberly.

I cursed myself for having been contemplating having sex with a guy I barely knew and never having considered before getting some reassurance that he was fine beforehand. "I'll get one from my Doctor for you too," I stated.

"That's not necessary," John Wick claimed. "I would find out if you weren't."

My cheeks started to burn as I realized that the man's scent was _that_ good and that he apparently was observant and thorough enough of a lover that he was expecting to be close enough to discover any other signs of illness while he was making love to me. I contemplated telling him that I was a virgin but stopped myself. When he was down there, he'd find out the truth soon enough and could make his decision as to whether or not he still wanted me as his mate.

"Make a duplicate of your apartment key," he instructed. "Tape it underneath the third step from the ground of the fire escape. I'll pick it up the next time I come by."

"I can't just let you in through the window like always?" I asked.

He stared down at me, looking as if he thought I was a hopelessly naive creature and I expected to receive a long explanation as to the error in my thinking. All I received however was a flat "No."

"I'll try to be here for the last day of your preheat and of course for your heat itself. How long do those each typically last?"

I sighed. "I'm all over the map. Sometimes longer than other times...sometimes shorter. Ummm...generally I'm a four days per each type of Omega."

John nodded. Staring into his eyes I could see that despite his outer calm there was a kind of inner excitement. He _badly_ wanted to mate. No it was no longer just want; he _needed_ to. The Alpha was obviously rutting and I cast a quick glance at the front of his trousers to see the bulge there and the obvious fact that he was already semi-hard. I gulped afraid of how large the body part would be when John Wick was fully aroused and knew that I'd be making its acquaintance in a matter of days.

"So...how are you going to get out of making hits for this High Table you work for?" I asked. "Won't they notice you're not calling in for work and come looking for you?"

John Wick smiled down at me and I knew that I had secretly pleased him by referring to the murders he committed as his work. That warmed my heart in return to have made him happy and I scolded myself silently for feeling so good that I had made the man smile. Knowing I was in love with him already, I reminded myself that Wick wasn't to be my soulmate, just my physical one; he wanted my body not my heart and it wouldn't do any good to give it to him so freely. Yet it still glowed the whole time John gave me his answer.

"I'll tell them that I'll be attending to my rutting on my own. They crossed the line a few days ago. I can use that. Hopefully they'll give me the time off."

"They won't want to risk losing you?"

John's expression became stone cold. "That can't happen. I'll never amount to anything more than a hired thug to them. I have no power in their world. They own me now, Erin. But I could make things _difficult_ for them and they'd rather not go through that again."

I knew he was talking about murder once more. This time not as a job but rather as a sign of revolt. It seemed in whatever world John Wick existed people killed each other every single day without a single care or the time to stop and realize how wrong it was. These murders now that John was talking about were not the ones commissioned to him by other people but ones simply committed because he would be trying to force them into allowing him to mate with me and not someone of their own choosing. This made me extremely uncomfortable because it would be my fault in an indirect way. I was about to tell him this when the first sting of a preheat like cramp came and I held my stomach in pain before I could get the words out.

Wick was kneeling by my side, his strong hand on my back in less than half a second. "It's starting," he stated.

"Yes," I said. "Well...almost. I'll have a day or two before it gets _really_ bad."

"Enough time to duplicate the key?"

"Yes," I nodded, upset that the Alpha seemed more concerned with the details of our business arrangement than the fact that I was in pain. But then again, this was important and deadly business to both him and myself because he had gotten me involved, I reasoned. For both of our safety he had to keep a level head and not let emotions, even sympathy, get in the way. Such focus, no doubt, had made him the skilled and supposedly infamous assassin that he was.

"And to tell my boss I'll need more time off," I added.

"Where do you work?" Wick asked.

"I'm a typist for a publishing company," I vaguely told him, ashamed of my profession even more than he seemed to be of his own. "I doubt you'd have heard of it. What I really want to be is a writer."

John Wick gave a brief nod and I thought I saw his mouth curl momentarily in amusement. "I used to restore old books for a while. When they let me retire for a few years."

"What happened to make you fall back in?" I looked at him and inquired as I was bent over my knees, his arm still on my back, a sensation I found out that I quite enjoyed.

John Wick quickly stood, taking away his pleasant touch. "It's a long story," he deflected.

I exhaled deeply. Too long for a man who was as uncomfortable with words as John Wick was. "I'd like to hear it someday," I told him. "You don't have to worry; I won't turn it into a bestseller."

"It'd make for a better film," Wick commented. "Too many action scenes."

I laughed. "Can we go and see it together one day. Sit side by side and share a bucket of popcorn and some tears, laughs and pheromones?"

John let out a quick burst of his own laughter and then abruptly stopped both the sound and his smile. Staring down at me, my soon to be lover looked very uncomfortable and I felt guilty without knowing why. "Did I say something wrong?" I asked.

One of the worst things about having OCD and AVPD is the feeling that you've said or done something _wrong_. It carries over from your actions. You'll do one simple thing repeatedly because you have this almost crippling feeling that you didn't do it _right_ the first time; so you end up doing it a great many more times to get that feeling of peace that you finally did it better. With words it's harder. You can't _say_ something to somebody over and over again or get practice runs to get it just right without your conversational partner looking at you like you lost your mind. So you just say it and then fear that you did it wrong until the feeling almost seems as constant as the period at the end of a sentence. It didn't help that John Wick had given me what I feared was evidence that I had said the wrong thing by his simple and sudden silence.

The assassin's face suddenly became gentle and his hand went to my cheek. "No. You said everything perfectly."

I smiled up at the man who looked so sweet and kind then that it would have been difficult believing he was a killer except for the blood soaked shirt I'd seen him wearing and the admission from his own mouth a few nights ago.

Thinking he was going to kiss my hair again John Wick opted on giving it a few strokes instead, as if I was his dog.

I crinkled my brow. "Where's your dog anyway?" I asked noticing his absence for the first time.

"With a man named Charon," Wick answered. "Dog likes him."

"You just call your dog Dog?" I countered in bemusement.

"I'm on the verge of naming him," John Wick defended in mild sheepishness.

"Maybe we can name him together someday," I suggested.

"Perhaps," Wick stated. "Which reminds me..."

I gazed up at him in curiosity.

"If at all possible, I don't want children, Erin. I hope that will be okay with you."

"Yes," I said and this was truthful. To be _expecting_ was not something I _expected_. But his words made me anticipate and dread what I knew he would say next.

"No bonding either," John added.

"I got it," I said looking away and trying not to show my regret. When I was a little girl I expected to bond with the man whom would be my first and only lover. It was probably the foolish dreams most Omegas had regarding their Alphas but it had always meant a lot to me. As did my lover honestly loving me back.

I guess, you were forced to abandon a lot of your childhood hopes as life presented you with certain dilemmas and varied options.

And as you became older too, I realized sadly, no longer that young girl.

"You are under no obligation to love me, John Wick," I stated, returning my eyes to his, and then requested, "but, if you wouldn't mind, could you _care_ for me just a little?"

John Wick looked shocked at first but then returned his expression to its common stoicism. "Got it," he returned.

"Good."

"I'd better leave," the man suddenly announced and turned to head towards the window. He stopped and studied it for a few seconds then faced me again. "When you feel like your last day of preheat is here, place a book in the window."

"Okay," I said.

As he was climbing back out on to the fire escape, I called his name. "Hey John! I used my umbrella today."

He peeked in, framed by the window above him and the windowsill below. "You have a _handle_ on things then?"

"Yup," I replied with a wink.

"Goodbye Erin," he grunted.

"Good night John Wick," I said and watched as he left me again.

* * *

John Wick looked at his feet as he clambered down the metal stairs, his shoes making too much noise amidst the already noisesome racket inside of his head. Erin had actually agreed to his proposition. That was the major obstacle overcome but many more still existed and he knew that he would need to take care of them before the Omega went into heat which would be soon. He would need to make an appointment to see the Doc to get thoroughly checked and have a report drawn up. That would be relatively easy compared to making an arrangement to meet with the Administrator and inform him that he was finally taking off the time allotted for satisfying his rutting. After that undesirable task he would have to insure that he could lose any Checkman and make it safely to Erin's apartment to keep an eye on the window for the designated signal.

These concerns clouded his mind but he could tackle them as he tackled all matters of danger and professional business. It was Erin herself who was bothering him more than he had expected just as she had the last time he had crept from her window.

* * *

Back inside of his hotel room, Dog successfully fetched from Charon, John Wick was relieved to be able to lie down on his bed and not find Leuce or some other Omega assassin already there. At the moment, there was already one woman taking control of his thoughts and that was one too many and not the one that had been dominating them since his meeting, marriage and subsequent loss of her.

Erin was possibly too innocent and sweet for the role he intended her to play. When she had asked if she had said anything wrong he had known it was her OCD which had been bothering her. During the seven days while he had waited for her answer, Wick had done some research on the topic and discovered that his belief that Obsessive Compulsive Disorder was a cleaning disease had been wrong. It was the obsessive thoughts that were at the heart of it. The need to get rid of unwanted and intrusive thoughts or the need to perform certain rituals out of fear something bad would happen. Often this led to the sufferer repeating actions fearing they had done it wrong too.

After learning about the mental illness, John Wick found himself wishing he could protect the girl from this as well. For a man who could easily read his targets and take them down it was frustrating to see any enemy as being simply in the mind and more difficult to make disappear with the use of a weapon or with his two hands.

He had tried to calm her worry but couldn't confess to her that he had been bothered by the fact that he had momentarily wanted very much to visit a movie theater with her or to do any of those regular things normal people did. But his role as the High Table's attack dog prevented him from doing it. And then there was Helen...often they had done those things before her illness. The thought of doing them with another woman, even this long after her death, disturbed him because it felt like he would be cheating on her.

But in a few days he would be having _sex_ with the shy Omega and that terrified and excited him all at once. The guilt that he would be unfaithful to Helen was warring with his need to mate and the knowledge that Erin's time was drawing near and she needed him in return.

And then the woman had made it all the worse by asking him to care for her. It had made him realize that he did. Kisses bestowed on the top of her head before he had intended to, a touch on her back, being amused by her and protective of her all told him that he did care for her.

But nothing ever good or decent had come from him caring about _anybody_ , John Wick knew. Either the people he cared for betrayed him in their fashion or they died. He could have told Erin this but he needed her too much to scare her away. If she talked to anybody that knew him their answer would be the same: stay away from John Wick. The others, like Helen and his mentor and friend Marcus, could no longer answer at all.

Why he had started to care for Erin wasn't too much of a mystery. They called him the Baba Yaga but he was in fact no monster and being only human he could not stop himself from caring for any creature that somehow had created the feeling inside of his heart. And Erin had from the moment he had first seen her in the cafe, shyly watching him and trying to weigh and figure out her own attraction to him. She needn't have bothered. In the world, it seemed predestined that you would like some people and loathe others. John Wick finally knew what had first made him interested in the woman he had chosen as his mate while he watched Dog curling up to sleep on the floor beside the bed and was reminded of the furry companion whom had preceeded him.

Erin reminded him of a little dog named Daisy in a strange way.

Daisy had been gifted to him by Helen shortly after her death along with a note which had read:

**_John, I'm sorry I can't be there for you. But you still need something, someone, to love. So start with this. Because the car doesn't count. I love you, John. This illness has loomed over us for a long time, and now that I have found my peace, find yours. Until that day, your best friend, Helen._ **

That note had long turned to ash along with the other items in his house, following Santino D'Antonio firing a rocket launcher into it, but he still remembered every single word.

Helen's final gift had worked for a while until Daisy had been mercilessly killed by the son of his ex employer. And it had all been over a car. 

Daisy and Erin also were both too honest in their ways, unable to successfully hide their emotions. Even when the Omega had told him what her profession was it had been clear it had brought her shame in some way and she had been keeping something from him. John Wick's first instinct had been to find out what this secret was but decided to let her keep it in the end. It wouldn't make any difference in any case. He would not invade her privacy. He needed the use of her body not her job.

Both dog and Omega, though, had seemed to care for him instantly and unconditionally. When Erin looked at him with her large soulful eyes it brought back the lost little puppy to his mind and how he had failed Daisy, being unable to save her. He knew that he could correct that failure now with the Omega that God had made to cross paths with him one fateful rainy day.

Even though he had introduced her to the world of the Table, John Wick vowed to that same God that he would not let anything happen to the woman whom had agreed to help him with his singular problem.

He would protect her with his life.

And if he failed in this too, the last life the infamous assassin known as the Baba Yaga would ever take would be his own.


	5. Inside of the Universe's Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I inform my boss that I will be needing time off, as my preheat begins. Meanwhile John Wick pays a visit to the Doctor.

The next day, I went into work intending to tell Christopher that I was right and another heat was coming: the preheat of which I was already suffering. I had meant to soften his annoyance over the fact that I would require several more days of sick leave with the announcement that I had finally found a mate to look after me. Mentioning John Wick's name was something I had planned on avoiding at all costs to ensure the assassin's safety. However, as I rapped on the editor's door at ErosPsyche Publishing and entered, I soon discovered that my boss had left once again on one of his usual out of state business affairs and had left an editor of lower ranking in his place.

This time it was a woman named Ivy Bunker. Ivy possessed hair the color of a burnt pan: caught perpetually somewhere between black and gray. She wore it in a bun so tight on the top of her head it looked as if she were attempting to give her sixty year old face a surgery free face lift. On her almost non existent nose, she managed to miraculously balance a pair of glasses like my grandfather had always worn: large, square and thick rimmed. She enjoyed looking over them at me while the corners of her plum painted lips pointed downwards at the mess either Christopher had left on the desk or she had proceeded to make in her short time sitting behind it.

"What is it _Ms_. Smyth?" she inquired, testily after telling me the reason why she was sitting at the boss' desk.

Usually I tried to tell her that I preferred _Miss_ to _Ms._ and that it was pronounced "Sm-eye-th" not "Smith" but that morning, with my cramps not listening to the Tylenol's advice to stay away, I just let her call me whatever the Hell she wanted to.

"I just wanted to let the company know that I will be needing a few days off because I am going into preheat."

Sighing, she rolled her eyes and removed her glasses in order to place them forcefully down on the messy desk.

"Chris knew..." I stammered in defense. "He understood that I...oh...I'm sorry!" I apologized, giving up as the woman rose from her chair to come and stand before me.

Ivy Bunker was all of five feet tall, right on level with my breasts about, but I felt as if she was the one glaring down at me. Her eyes no longer hidden by the thick glasses had shrunk to the size of two French peas and their shade matched that particular vegetable also. About three heavy bags lay under each pea to catch them incase they decided to slide off of her scowling face.

"You were just in _heat_!" she snapped. "Shouldn't you be on a suppressant if they happen _this_ often?"

"Usually they don't," I countered. "Usually I'm more often late than early."

She sighed again, a sound very much like what one would get if they exhaled a breath through a kazoo. Waving a hand at me in annoyance, Bunker returned to her desk and the glasses which were waiting for her on the pile of paper where she had left them; a pile, no doubt, covered in graphic erotic descriptions. She perched the glasses back on her nose and looked at me sternly, her eyes becoming suddenly as large as grapes behind the thick walls of glass. "You saw a guy you liked, didn't you?"

I blushed and nodded my head.

The editor shook her head. "It's all God's revenge. As women we should be smarter then to get pregnant and suffer for nine months. He knows this...so what does He do? He makes us all idiots who go into heat and open our legs when a handsome face comes along. It keeps the world populated or otherwise humans would become extinct. Take me, though...I never fell for it. God couldn't get me to fall for all that nonsense. I have these smutty, fucking novels to keep me entertained when I get _those_ urges."

I didn't bring up the fact that, if the talk around the office was to be believed, it probably didn't hurt that God had made her a lesbian too.

"These books," she proclaimed, shoving some papers over towards me, "are my _life_."

This also was a fact well discussed throughout the building. She had formerly been the boss, I had heard, until boardroom politics had come to work and Chris had been transferred here and Ivy Bunker had been demoted. I felt a sudden wave of pity for the woman then. To have devoted one's life to something, to love it that much, only to have to watch as somebody swept in to take it away from her must have been agonizingly painful. That Christopher hated the job must have been salt on a wound time obviously had done little to heal.

She raised her eyes to find me staring at her in sympathy and empathy, two emotions she loathed. "Get out of here. Take your fucking time off. And when you're finished fucking come back and get back to work. These manuscripts don't type themselves, you know. The authors can barely even spell fellatio or cunnilingus right."

I nodded, offered a meek smile and exited the office.

That bit of business taken care of, all I needed left to do was go and get the key to my apartment duplicated so I could tape it under the stair on the fire escape as John had requested. Then I could return to the comfort and safety of my apartment, snuggle down in my nest and pray to God that it wouldn't hurt too much, waiting for the moment to place a book in the window to let John Wick know that it was almost time.

* * *

In a room inside of a building in Chinatown, John Wick climbed off of an examining table, the Doctor having finished with the final aspects of his physical. The Baba Yaga started to dress again as the older Asian man scribbled down some notes in his book.

When the man continued to keep writing long after he had put his trousers on, Wick looked over his shoulder at the small man in concern.

"Everything okay Doc?" Wick asked as he slipped his arm into the sleeve of his shirt.

"Fine, fine Mr. Wick," the Physician stated. "You are in better shape then men half your age. Even after the stress of the last two years. That is what surprises me."

John avoided looking at the man, trying to ignore the always present pain of the loss which had been the starting point in an ever growing nightmare. In a strange way, though, that first horror had made everything that had followed it seem not quite so bad in comparison. Only Daisy and Marcus' death came close to losing Helen. But being hunted down, betrayed, falling from a tall building, a subsequent failed coup d'etat with the Bowery King and then a forced rejoining to the institution which he hated didn't come anywhere close to the death of Helen Wick. Even if the scars of the last few months still covered both his body; the Doc having just seen quite a few for himself.

"But tell me...why the current interest in your health?" the Doctor stated in obvious confusion. "You commonly save your visits for when you are wounded...after you've been stabbed or shot or both. Why see me when you are in perfect health?"

"I have my reasons," John replied, not exactly willing to say more. "Can I have a report on a clean bill of health ready by tomorrow?"

"I will work on it immediately, Mr. Wick."

"Can you include the bloodwork done after my official reinduction to the Table?"

The older man nodded but looked hesitant. "It won't show if you have contracted any diseases from new lovers."

John Wick gave a short laugh. "What new lovers, Doc?"

The older man looked almost parentally relieved and the assassin was unsure as to why until he opened his mouth.

"Leuce called me to perform a physical on her a few weeks ago," the Doctor confessed. "She was checking on her chances of becoming pregnant the next time she went into heat. She had the High Table's blessing to proceed with her desired choice of mate."

John Wick straightened his black tie and frowned. It was good of the Doc to even break his confidentiality rules to divulge the information.

"I'm glad that you did not take her up on her offer," Doc commented, lightly patting John Wick on the back.

"She wasn't my type," John remarked in turn.

"Would you mind me asking if you found another Omega who was then and that is the true reason for your appointment?"

John studied the Doc closely. Knowing he could trust him, he replied, "Am I that transparent Doc?"

The Physician smiled kindly. "You forget you came to me only once before when it wasn't related to a dire and current ailment."

John inhaled deeply and grabbed his gun from off a nearby counter in order to place it back in its proper place following a brief examination of its own.

He hadn't forgotten.

The time the Doctor spoke of had been before his marriage to Helen when he had wanted to make sure that the woman he loved was getting someone who was healthy in body if not exactly the mind. Little had he known then that he should never have directed his concern towards his own health but had placed it in his bride's instead. Not that it would have done any good. _Nothing_ would ever have done any good; that was what every single Doctor and specialist they had ever gone to had told them anyway.

Wick's eyes suddenly moved to the wall and the symbol for Tao depicted on the Doc's office hidden away in a little part of Chinatown. He couldn't remember if the artwork had been there that night months ago when he had visited the place after being made excommunicado but it was inconsequential. It was there now and all that it represented: the universe and its neverending natural cycle of life and death. A swirl of black locked with a swirl of white, creating a circle like the world and infinity. The black had an eye of white and could see only light while the white was given an eye of black with which to see only darkness. Life and death and love and hate. The symbol was there to tell you, when you were left aching for what you had lost, to merely be content with what you had been given in the first place. For it was always broken and you were always alone to begin with and that was why the world could keep on spinning.

To remind him that Helen had been dead the moment that he had met her. 

"Is she very much like _her_?" the Doctor asked, his eyes hopeful. "This new Omega you have found?"

Looking down the barrel of his Glock 45 and imagining aiming at the universe which had cruelly stolen from him the only woman he believed he could ever love, John answered, " _Nobody_ is _like_ Helen."

Feeling severe rage in that moment concerning his state of deprivement and each minute which felt like its own endless Hell, John Wick pulled the trigger and shot two bullets through the Tao symbol as if he were shooting both the natural order of things and the Universe which cruelly accepted it. The first bullet found the eye of white, blinding existence's darkness to the good while the second stole the black from out of light's vision.

"Sorry Doc," John Wick stated as he returned the gun to its holster, threw on his jacket and tossed two coins of gold at the older man who caught them with the steady hands of a well seasoned Physician.

The Baba Yaga then turned and left the office, intending to drop by Erin's fire escape to check and see if she had left him a key underneath the third step of it.

It was too early for it to be her time just yet. Even if his body wanted it to be but not exactly his heart.

* * *

After suffering for three days, I felt that it was growing near the final day of that suffering and I left my little nest to make it to the window. I'd made only one longer journey away from the special place I had devoted to my preheats; that particular trip found me making my way in abject misery to the fire escape to see if the key was still there or if it had been taken. It was gone when I had trailed my hand under the metal surface and I had managed to smile passed my physical pain, knowing that John would soon be coming to my apartment.

Normally I would have been quite frightened and apprehensive at that time, realizing that I was finally about to be taken sexually. But I could feel the urgent need of my heat always present. It was overriding any case of nerves that I would usually have been feeling. I kept remembering the peak in John Wick's trousers and would feel hungry and anxious for it. Gone was the fear I had felt when I had first seen the bulge, replaced by a stirring deep inside which wanted that part of the man to fill it wide and calm its painful and desperate demand to hold the cock within its warm, wet walls.

That desire remained as I crawled out of my nest and stumbled to the window, stopping at a shelf in order to grab a book from off of it. I clutched my large belly and tried to steady myself as I read the titles of the novels I loved enough to keep and not give away or sell. It would have been easy to just grab any old one and stick it in the window so I could return to my nest and my agony. My OCD would not let me though. Or maybe it was simply an overly creative mind which might have been a contributing factor to the disorder which often ruled my life or, at least, made it very difficult to live. I didn't want just any book: I wanted one which fit and felt right.

My eyes landed on Emily Bronte's "Wuthering Heights." I had bought it when I was very young in Ottawa. It was one in a series of children's novels that Coles had put out. The cover was bright pink and there were illustrations inside of it which were somewhat strange to go along with the text. The whole book was delightfully strange to me; far different than what other female writers were conjuring up and certainly world's apart from Emily's sister Charlotte's own "Jane Eyre." It was a tale of love and passion between two almost completely unlikable individuals. It was filled with a sexuality which was never confirmed to be consummated and Heathcliff lost his Cathy sometime before the book had even reached its conclusion. The grieving man carried on with a revenge scheme against those he believed had separated him and his love only to wildly abandon it when the ghost of Cathy started coming to his window.

That would do it.

I picked the novel up, with its slightly odd cover picture of two selfish lovers, and placed it in the window for John to see when next he chose to call on me, his own urgent need calling him to the body which was almost violently aching for the Alpha assasin even now.


	6. At the Corner of a Window

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Wick informs his supervisor that he will be taking a few days off from work and subsequently finds me waiting for him at the apartment in the safety of my nest as I ride out the last day of my preheat.

The Administration building was buzzing as John Wick entered it, the soles of his black as midnight shoes crossing the floor on the way to the Administrator's office. The Operators carried on with their business as if they were nothing more than soulless androids bedecked in pink and grey with almost hopelessly forties or fifties coifs on their bespectacled heads. To modernize themselves, often the Operators chose to wear tattoos or rings all over their bodies and he briefly wondered upon seeing them if Erin had any to discover hidden away on her own plus sized, full figured body. The thought excited him, as any sexual one did these days, and he was grateful that the women continued on with their work, like bees or ants, too busy transferring funds and sending out orders to have any time to notice his hard on. Another fact to be grateful for was that he was soon to meet with the Administrator assigned to his case: this made it easy to lose his arousal for he hated any interaction with the man.

Wick hated the little officator for the High Table almost as much as he hated the twelve whom sat at the table themselves. The Administrator enjoyed his job and the power it had given him. Bureaucrats had always bothered Wick more than even the most violent of assassins he had encountered in his own profession. At least an assassin didn't hide behind the safety of an office door when they went to work. And they always only ever saw half the recompense of what those in charge were given despite doing all of the work.

The Administrator's secretary, a young woman in her early twenties with purple colored hair, glared at him from over her thick rimmed glasses as he came to stand before her desk. John didn't bother to say his name for the woman knew him well enough by now and would also have known that he had made the appointment days before to meet with her boss.

She turned to the old fashioned telecom sitting on her desk and pressed it with a red talon like fingernail. "John Wick is here to see you, sir."

"Send Mr. Wick in," John heard the high pitched and emotionless voice of the Administrator inform in response.

"Yes sir," the woman stated and then looked at Wick and said, "Go in" as if he were too deaf or dumb to have heard it himself.

"Thanks," he muttered just the same before starting to head in.

"Leave your gun behind, Mr. Wick," she ordered.

Turning back, John Wick took the weapon out of the holster and placed it on her too tidy of a desk. It was unnecessary, of course. He didn't need a gun to kill the little twerp if he wanted to. But those in power were hardly ever likely to want to ever face how truly powerless they might, in fact, be. Making it to the door this time without interruption, John Wick entered wanting to get the meeting over with as quickly as possible.

The Administrator was standing behind his raised desk as smoke drifted up off of an ashtray on it. The bureaucrat's face was covered in rings as his body had also been turned into a canvas for tattoos. He scowled down at him as if he were nothing more than a rodent which had unfortunately entered his office and had the nerve to dare take up even a second of his time.

"What is this about Mr. Wick?" the man asked, the single light in the room reflecting off his glasses and making his irises appear eerie and yellow, without pupils.

"I didn't appreciate the gift the Table sent me," John Wick stated.

With the corners of his lips turning ever downward, the Administrator replied, "So I have been informed. Would you like an exchange then?"

"I would _like_ the opportunity to choose my mate myself," Wick hissed.

The Administrator closed the file on his desk slowly and then put it to the side as he looked at the assassin with contempt. "The choice was no longer yours to make when you reswore your allegiance to the table."

"That was never stated in the arrangement, " John stated.

"It did not need to be. As far as I am concerned the Table lowered itself with any deal that it made with you," the Administrator countered, taking the glasses off of his nose where they usually sat for him to peer over at anybody unlucky enough to need to enter his office. "You have..."

The bureaucrat never said another word. John Wick, leapt up and instantly grabbed the short man by the collar of his pink dress shirt and pulled him down from his lofty and self righteous height. The Administrator's well polished shoes dragged on some papers left on his desk and they spilled on to the floor as Wick placed him down on the floor. Pulling the glasses out of the younger man's hands, John Wick snapped the temple from one side and then placed it against the Administrator's Adam's Apple. Blood appeared on the black frame and John Wick saw the first flash of emotion in the bureaucrat's green eyes; not surprisingly, he noted that it was fear.

"I will do all that the Table requests of me," John Wick snarled low in anger. "But my ruttings and my matings are my own. I will be gone attending to that specific matter during the next few days. Don't follow me or I will show my displeasure to the twelve personally. But to begin with, I think, I'll start with you!"

With that sentiment, Wick ran the edge of the frame across the man's neck. He witnessed as the Administrator's eyes widened and then as the small man struggled as the blood began to leak out. Rising to his feet, John Wick watched in pleasure as the Administrator sat up frantically and clasped his throat, starting to speak and expecting not to be able to from the slit presumably along his throat. As more solid sounds did escape and he realized the cut the assassin had made was only superficial, the Administrator looked up in shock.

"Next time I push the temple in one end and it comes out the other," John vowed and tossed the broken pair of glasses on to the bureaucrat's lap.

The assassin walked confidently out of the office knowing but never seeing the look of pure hatred on the Administrator's face as he left.

* * *

From the alleyway outside of Erin's apartment, John Wick looked up and saw the copy of Bronte's "Wuthering Heights" at the corner of one special window and smiled to himself. After his unpleasant and violent encounter with the Administrator an hour ago, and having spent the time following weaving in and out of the New York City streets until he was sure he wasn't being followed, finding out that the woman was almost ready for him came as a balm to his exhausted and drained soul. While his nerves battled with an excitement deep inside of himself, John Wick felt a strange form of peace there also; almost like he was coming home in a way.

But it wasn't home, he told himself; it was only a little apartment in a run down part of the city where he had struck up a bargain with a sweet Omega female whom hadn't hated when he had first come to her even though he had been covered in other men's blood.

Standing by the fire escape in perfect stillness, John felt Dog brushing his head up against his hand as if urging him forward on to the metal structure.

"No, we use the front door this time," John Wick informed his friend. "Yeah. You get to come too this time."

If Dog could smile, John Wick was sure he would have done it then.

Even if Erin hadn't scribbled her apartment number on a piece of masking tape on the key she had left for him, John knew that he wouldn't have had any trouble linking the apartment to the window he had been to twice before. That was easy in his trade, one of those little bits of spatial reasoning that had made him into the Baba Yaga, the infamous assassin, that he was. Walking through the buildings mundane corridors, with their bad lighting and ancient wallpaper, peeling off from the walls due to a probably unhealthy amount of moisture, John Wick wondered if this was what normal men felt like when they returned home after a long day's work. He had never experienced that with Helen. Once Viggo Tarasov had freed him, the only work he had done was his book restorations and those he had performed out of the house they had both lived in. Visiting Helen in the hospital had also not counted. That had been both a happy and painful time for the then ex assassin. Seeing his wife always brought him joy, but the surroundings could only ever remind him of the fact that she was dying and every moment he had with her felt stolen somehow: As if he were a thief and would be found out someday and made to return what he had wrongfully taken. In the end, of course, he had. God had come back to reclaim what John Wick saw as His perfect creation.

Slipping the key in to the door, John Wick entered with Dog following closely behind him. Shutting the door, the assassin went to the window in order to take the book out of it. He doubted any Checkman would have taken it for the sign that it really was but being cautious never hurt in such situations. Returning the third-eldest Bronte sibling's sole book to a shelf, John Wick had to steady himself as he caught the first scent of the Omega's preheat. He leaned on the bookshelf as he felt himself growing hard, his body aware that after months of abstinence it was about to finally find release.

"John?" he heard Erin's voice call out.

"Yeah. It's me," he replied, feeling the blissful sensation of his blood rushing to his cock and making it rise and become harder, the Alpha tried his best to remain calm and let his feet lead him to where his ears told him that the Omega was waiting.

He opened the door to the desired room only to discover with a little degree of shock that Erin was nesting in the tub in her bathroom. She was in the familiar purple nightie and had comforters and pillows all around her, even though some of them were so old that bits of fluff was sticking out of them here and there. It was kind of cute and John found himself growing properly protective of the woman as she looked in pain and also almost like a little girl as she clutched tightly on to a plush toy of a dragon.

"Hey," John Wick greeted a tad shyly. "Good choice of book."

"Thanks," she replied, looking up at him with her green-gray eyes, filled with discomfort. "I thought it was appropriate. Windows and all that. I also always liked Emily Bronte. I heard when company came over she preferred to read a book in the corner. I can appreciate that."

John reached into his jacket and took out the Doctor's report. He bent over slightly to hand it to her and she took her plump, white hand away from the dragon to take it shakily. She did not read it, however, only glanced at it and then let it fall gently on to the tiled floor of the bathroom.

"You're supposed to read that," he chastised her kindly.

"Why? I trust you," Erin said in return.

It probably had more to do with the fact that she was close to being in heat and naturally willing to believe anything in her natural and overriding urge to mate but John Wick was flattered nonetheless. He sat down on the floor by the tub in order to keep her company while he waited for it to be time, resting his left arm on the edge of the tub as he looked down at her.

"Interesting choice for a nest," he commented. She seemed embarrassed for a second and he hastily tried to fix it by adding, "I like it."

"When my parents got divorced, when I was a kid," Erin stated, "My mom, sister and I moved in with my grandfather. It was a small house. I shared a bedroom with my mom and sister too. It was hard to be able to be alone. And I needed that sometimes...so I'd go into the bathroom and just sit on the floor when I wanted it to just be me and my feelings and thoughts. I guess, that just kind of stuck."

John Wick nodded. He thought about his own childhood in the Tarkovsky theater and how he similarly had struggled to be alone amidst all of the other pupils ruled over and instructed by the Director. It had been difficult and he had often struggled with his silence and lone wolf like nature. At last, he had found a place in the attic of the building where he could be alone to think just like the Omega in the bathtub had done.

Studying Erin nesting, he remembered Helen's own preheats and found himself reminiscing out loud.

"My wife, Helen, before she was dying used to nest in her darkroom," John said, finding a smile crossing his face. "She was a photographer. When she would start cramping, she'd go into her darkroom at home and grab her favorite blanket. I'd want to go and join her but she'd say 'No, John. You'll intimidate the slick back into me.'"

A laugh emerged and the smile remained until John Wick realized that he had only been offered the chance of watching Helen Wick retreating to her darkroom for her preheat twelve times before their first anniversary. That particular event had, in fact, marked the beginning of the end. Then John Wick's smile quickly faded and he found himself crying without willing to instead.

* * *

When I had first heard the door open, I knew it had been John but some fear had taken hold of me that it was one of those members of the High Table that he had told me of. Hearing his reply when I had called out had reassured me, but I wasn't truly relieved until I had seen his impassive face enter my bathroom. Now watching as that same stoic countenance was disturbed first by a gentle smile and then by tears, my heart broke, an emotional pain stronger than the physical one which had been claiming my body for days.

I knew now that John Wick had been married after all; I even knew her name: Helen. But at some point she had died and left him alone and trapped back inside of the institution that he hated. That was why the once again assassin had needed a mate to stave off the High Table's intentions to use him, not only to kill but essentially as a stud also, and to fulfill the needs his Alpha nature was making it _increasingly_ difficult to deny.

The tears slid off of John Wick's face and I desperately wanted to wipe them away for but knew that it might only embarrass him in some way. Men did not cry as often as women. To see them doing so was a rare sight and oftentimes startling and moving. But they were a necessary part of life and of grieving and I was grateful he felt safe enough in my presence to shed some tears, willful or not. Slowly, I lifted my hand and took the man's left hand resting on the edge of the bathtub which I had turned into a nest. I could feel the void made by the missing finger, where once a ring had been placed, but squeezed the remaining ones gently in comfort. John turned to look at me and his expression was unreadable. Still he let me keep holding his hand until I eventually fell asleep.

* * *

Staring at Erin's face while she slept, feeling her warm soft fingers around his own, John Wick did not know what to feel. She was so unlike Helen in certain ways, her hesitance and shyness, yet she had _known_ what he had required in that one particular instance: another human being's touch. A warmth was in heart that had been woefully absent for too long. However, experiencing a feeling associated so strongly with Helen made him feel ashamed and as if his dead wife would walk through the door, which his back was currently resting against, and reprimand him for cheating on her with another Omega.

His body, on the other hand, knew exactly what to feel and he was suffering the strongest and most painful erection he had had in what felt like ages. He could see the seat of his black trousers becoming wet from his arousal and all his cock wanted him to do was climb into the tub and take the sleeping woman even though she wasn't ready yet. To prevent himself from doing this, John Wick stumbled to his feet and ran out of the door and to the living room where Dog sat on the floor patiently waiting to be remembered.

* * *

Hearing the sound of shoes on tiles, I awoke to see the back end of John leaving my side. He seemed in a hurry which instantly made me fear that something was wrong and propelled me out of the tub; an endeavor which took a few more seconds than necessary since I immediately became tangled in too many dratted comforters.

"John?" I started to call once I had freed myself. "John!"

I found the hitman sitting on my living room sofa, petting his Dog's head and looking incredibly uncomfortable. On the verge of asking him what was disturbing him so badly, my eyes soon landed on the large bulge in his lap and could pretty well guess what it was: The Alpha was in agony while he rutted and waited helplessly for me to finally go into heat. Guilt flooded me along with a stirring of sexual heat. I had called him too early and the man was suffering from it. He needed some form of release and he needed it immediately.

Swallowing harshly, made nervous by what I planned to do and holding my tummy from the cramping, I slowly made my way to where John sat and knelt before him, my hand fumbling with his belt buckle.

"No you don't need to," he told me, his eyes sincere but his concealed penis seeming to twitch in indication that its owner should shut up.

"It will help get my mind off of the pain," I told him, pushing each end of the belt out of the way and bringing my hand to the zipper. "When my mom had sciatica, I told her that focusing on something else helps. I knew from my own pain."

The bearded Alpha looked at me as if he wanted to argue with me to stop but he couldn't make the words come out past the gratitude of his groin. As I pulled the zipper down, I noticed that the fabric on the front of John Wick's trousers was soaked in precome. Coming briefly in contact with it, my skin became wet and I felt a surge of excitement to match the Alpha's own. Pulling aside each side of the trousers, I saw the outline of John's cock straining his boxer briefs and hastily freed the member out through the opening in the boxers.

I looked at the penis in fright. No wonder he'd been in pain. It was amazing he'd managed to even fit it inside of his underwear, I thought! The cock looked like some giant, mutated and angry earthworm, rising up on its hindquarters to stare at me. Thick amounts of liquid were dripping out of its slitted and swollen head and the whole thing looked sore and insistent. It was about three inches from my face and was the first one I'd ever seen in person, aroused and ready to enter me.

"Is everything okay?" John Wick asked and I looked up to see his dark eyes looking at me in concern.

I didn't want to let on that I was inexperienced and certainly didn't want him to get a penis complex all of a sudden because I was finally seeing an erection up close and personal and it was intimidating me.

"Yes, it's beautiful," I commented and kissed its leaking head to prove my words to him.

Precome spurted out from the penis and onto my lips and chin as John Wick's mouth let out a loud moan in unison with the action. The sound of his pleasure gave me the strength to go forward despite my inexperience. It was obvious that if John Wick could be turned on by my simple little kiss on his dick then he was at the stage where he'd been without sexual stimulation from somebody else for so long anything I did would possibly satisfy him. I could feel the obvious indication dripping off of my chin and coating the hand which had come to the phallus in order to move up and down the drenched shaft. It was smooth, wet and soft to the touch and had me mesmerized suddenly.

I pumped the erection while I licked the glans. With each slow caress of my tongue, Wick seemed to lose his composure a little, squirming where he sat. He watched me at the beginning but then closed his eyes and rested his head back on the sofa. I placed my lips tentatively around the swollen organ then and clenched my lips around it, loosening them and then tightening them again as my hand continued its fast and furious running back and forth.

John Wick cried out and this encouraged me to move me head forward and backwards along his tip and a bit of his shaft, my lips meeting my hand as my tongue continued to explore the still weeping cock. As the assassin started to roll his head back and forth on the back of the couch, making evergrowing sounds of physical bliss, I could feel my own arousal at his reaction growing past my pain. The arousal grew as his cock ventured deeper inside my mouth with each and every slide.

Wick began to call out loudly, incoherent calls of passion, and I saw movement out of the corner of my eye to see Dog watching what we were doing in curiosity. It occurred to me that to the canine it must have looked like I was devouring his Master. John Wick was grunting as he violently rolled his head back and forth. Still the Dog just kept watching innocently even when his Master began to lift his buttocks off of the couch in order to thrust his member farther inside of my mouth. 

While John Wick was allowing himself his own release, I felt like my clit had become a sleeping bud gone into full bloom between my legs. Deeper in, I felt wonderful pressure and a wetness had appeared on my thighs which wasn't slick but was pretty darn close. At some point, John Wick's erection had formed its precious knot, I could feel when it first had projected out, but without the proper locking place inside of my vagina, I wasn't afraid that it would get stuck inside of my mouth. What worried me more was my growing breathlessness and the vast amount of precome spilling down my throat and out of the corners of my mouth. Needing to catch my breath, I trailed Wick's length out of my precome coated lips and released it fully, intending to take it back in again once I had swallowed and taken a deep breath. Glistening and lovely, I saw John Wick's erection spasming here and the bulb. I licked the lovely knot and gave it a brief suck. Realizing he was no longer inside of me, John opened his eyes in order to see what had happened to separate my mouth from his cock. I looked up at him, swallowed quickly and offered him a smile.

Then the assassin did what he was famous for. 

I watched as John's penis started to convulse in a rage and a shocking amount of string like semen flew out and hit me right in the middle of my suprised face: John Wick had _shot_ me with his come.

Happy, proud, exhilarated and horribly aroused, I smiled brightly at the Alpha, fell to the floor in exhaustion and quickly passed out.


	7. Between the Sheets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Wick takes me to bed.

John Wick stared down at the Omega whom lay on the carpet, her face covered in his semen and felt similarly floored. After months of sexual frustration, where he had needed to tend to himself, his cock now lay spent and momentarily satisfied in his lap while he looked down at Erin while she remained passed out by his feet with a happy, pleased little smile on her face. He was confused what had just happened or what to do next, his powerful orgasm stealing his usually efficent and well trained process of thought. Dog seemed to know what to do before he did, however. The canine rushed towards the woman, his tongue ready to clean off her face. The thought of Dog licking his come off of Erin disturbed John properly enough to leap from the couch and intervene before the tongue could make contact with her pale pink skin.

"No," John said coming between Dog and woman.

Kneeling beside Erin, he took her in his arms and lifted her sleeping, plump form. She was heavy, far more so than Helen's willowy frame had been, but she was manageable and he stumbled forward trying to take her to the bedroom which he had never entered let alone seen before. Knowing which door led to the bathroom now, and stopping there first to grab a towel and wet it, it was not hard for the assassin to discern the right one to the room he desired and he opened it, feeling Erin nuzzling her head against his chest and murmuring softly, as he did.

"Did I do okay?" he was able to make out the words despite the fact that she mumbled them into his shirt..

Blushing, he replied, "Yeah. You did great."

"Good," she smiled lazily and rubbed her head into his chest again.

As he looked down at her, John thought he saw a bit of his come still at the corner of her lips, not to mention the fluid still covering her face. Feeling arousal beginning to return, he rushed quickly into the bedroom, trying to get his mind off of the sexual stirring trying to claim him again. There was barely enough time to afford in studying the room. There was an old poster of two characters supposedly called Gambit and Rogue on the wall, a shelf lined with stuffed animals and even more books. An old desk, with an even older typewriter, sat over in the corner but the only thing that interested John Wick was the fairly large bed placed against the wall to the left. He placed the Omega gently on its edge in the sitting position before he knelt before her and started to wipe the come off from her face with the towel.

Her eyes fluttered and John smiled for she looked both like a child besides being very pretty, exhausted in her preheat and somehow innocent despite the sexuality that it heralded. She also looked _fragile_. An urge to protect her as a father would surged through his heart at the same time his cock was coming to life again from seeing and smelling his seed smeared on her features and wanting to be inside her once more. The knowledge that he could push her down on the bed and just take her there and then, heat or no heat, occurred to him just as it had when she had been nesting in the tub. It was a tantalizing possibility that made him all the more harder but he pushed the idea away as he could not do the same with his rock hard cock. John Wick couldn't believe that with his cool assassin trained mind he was losing it in the face of his rutting and the fact that he was finally about to mate again. He hated being an Alpha whenever he realized that it made him a helpless slave to his groin. A Beta seemed far better sometimes with far more control over when their sexual needs flared and how they could be attended to.

Erin's face was now clean and her eyes opened a little after one last wipe over her nose with the dry end of the towel. Suddenly bashful again after realizing this was her first return to conciousness after having brought him to release with her tongue and mouth, John Wick looked down only to discover that he'd managed to spray her nightshirt when he had ejaculated apparently as well.

"I got your shirt," he commented, his cheeks turning deep red.

"It's okay," she replied in a low somewhat dazed tone. "Can you take it off of me? I'm hot."

Erin raised her arms over her head to aid him before adding. "Might as well see what you're getting; then you can flee in terror while you still can."

She was insulting her weight, John knew. He'd taken for granted that she might be insecure about her size, believing that the fact he had chosen her as his mate fully aware and accepting of her weight, would have been enough to squelch any fear she might have felt regarding it. Not one for words, the assassin simply grasped the nightshirt and removed it from her body, choosing to show by his action and reaction that her worries were unfounded. Throwing the dirty piece of night clothes on to the floor, he gazed down at her as she sat there naked and trembling. Erin was biting her bottom lip, fearing that he would now see her far from flat stomach and less than perky breasts and go running for the door.

Instead, John Wick chose to do was brush his hand across one of her extra large breasts. He wanted to grasp it in his own large hand and taste flesh and teat but held back the instinct. He then touched her tummy and let his hand rest there. "You have nice skin," he commented.

The Omega sobbed a little as she realized that he was not about to leave her. She raised her head and looked at him, her green-gray eyes wider, more aware now and filled with relief and gratitude.

Her fingers went to his clothes and started to remove them slowly despite the physical pain she was still in from her preheat. As the jacket came off first and her fingers turned to unbuttoning the shirt next, John felt his own self conciousness growing. He was in good shape for being at the midpoint of his life but he was still older than this Omega was. As she pulled the shirt back and he helped her by slipping out of the sleeves, he was suddenly worried she'd be disappointed in the sight soon to be offered to her. However, Erin merely touched his chest and kissed his stomach and the scar there, before turning her focus to helping him out of his trousers, calming his own insecurity in the process.

A minute or two later, the Alpha stood before the Omega as they were both equally exposed and they looked at one another in shy attraction. Erin returned her hands to his chest and stomach. Her fingers touched it lightly, exploring him as if he were the first man she had ever touched.

"You...you can have me now if you want," she offered, both of her hands resting in the middle of his chest.

John Wick grabbed her hands by the wrists, feeling his penis twitch happily at the suggestion but desiring to keep it impatiently waiting.

"You aren't ready yet," he told her as gently as the grip he had on her wrists; a grip so gentle one of her hands easily escaped from it in order to dip lower and find the erection heavily leaking and dripping fluid on to her thighs.

"You are though," she said, starting to pump him again.

Moving forward, John took the woman into his embrace. "Get some rest," he crooned, feeling her head pressed into his abdomen and sending a jolt of pleasure through his body and straight down to his cock which unleashed some more precome on to her hand and thighs.

"You'll _need_ it," he quickly added, knowing that she would from the way his body was coursing with almost violent anticipation for her.

"Okay," she murmured and kissed his stomach again, making John Wick almost knot, an urge he fought with all of his being.

Erin crawled into bed, giving him an unintentionally (at least he thought) brazen view of her full butt as she slipped under the covers. Being able to stop the bulb from appearing on his erection, Wick was unsuccessful at keeping a moan from escaping out of his beard framed mouth. It was the same mouth that wanted to desperatly taste the vaginal lips he saw peeking beneath her nice ass as she lay on her side and held the bedsheet up in invitation for him to crawl in beside her.

Though the temptation may prove to be too much, the Alpha found himself sliding in behind the Omega. She nestled the enclave between her thighs, where he had just seen her folds and been taunted by them, against him so the tip of his raised penis fit into it without fully entering her. Provocatively she rubbed it against her flesh until he grabbed her shoulders and pressed his head into the corner where shoulder met neck. "Don't," he hissed in warning and she stopped, falling weakly against him.

John Wick kissed the flesh that was close to his lips and smelled strongly the woman's scent gland; the same one which he would need to bite one day if he chose to bond with her.

Not that he would ever let it become _that_ serious. All this was to be was a satisfying of needs after all.

Still, John Wick kissed his intended mate one more time as he wrapped his arms around her thick waist, feeling her breasts large and heavy over them. Soon he felt her plump hand holding his arm as well. Nuzzling his bearded chin into her soft pale shoulder, John fell asleep, the scent of her filling his nostrils and invading his dreams.

* * *

As I felt John's erection pressing close but never actually daring to enter, I felt his tender kisses and listened to his breathing. For a moment, I had thought he might bite my sweat gland and bind us together. My nipples had become hard and I had tried to keep my breathing even so he would not be able to tell of my excitement. But then the moment had passed and he had simply kissed my neck and placed his strong arms around me, insistent that we both rest in preparation for our mating.

I was disappointed.

But only a little.

The fact that he had still chosen to stay with me and crawl into the bed behind me, even after having seen my body exposed, had brought amazing comfort and made me incredibly overjoyed. I was soon going to be with a man whom accepted me for whom I was and whom I honestly felt genuine attraction for. I held on to his arm and closed my eyes, falling asleep to the sound of his own peaceful sleep and assumed dreaming.

When I awoke, it was several minutes later according to the hands of the clock by my bed. John Wick was still holding on to me. I felt his warm body pressed against mine and his cock still pointed and ready between my thighs. The cramps were gone and in their place was only a strong and overpowering physical emptiness that needed urgent answering. My thighs and buttocks were wet: covered in slick.

"John!" I moaned but did not have long to wait for his reply.

The Alpha's lips were on mine instantly, hungry and devouring, obviously already completely aware that my time of heat had come at last.


	8. Centered at an Entrance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Wick and I begin to make love until the Baba Yaga discovers something unexpected.

John was awakened from his sleep by the scent of fresh slick and the feel of it as well.

The dream he was pulled out of by sense of smell and touch had featured dreamselves of both his previous and current Omegas. Helen held his hand tightly on his right side while Erin's hand was holding his left hand rather tentatively. They walked this way for a while throughout the desecrated remains of a house which had once belonged to a very happy and loving couple known as the Wicks. As they continued their little stroll, John felt Helen's hold on him loosening while Erin's became tighter; the scent of his wife began to fade as the scent of his new chosen mate became stronger and more pervasive. It filled the ruins of the house where he had once lived and been happy even if it now seemed from this distance as short a duration as the sigh Helen had made during their lovemaking or the simple blink of an eye.

He felt himself becoming painfully hard, could smell the enticing scent of slick hitting his nostrils stronger than any punch that he had encountered during his existence as the Baba Yaga. Still, he was reluctant to let go of his wife's hand, trying desperately to lock their fingers together to keep them from parting.

But Helen would not let him.

She was the one whom was letting him go first.

"She's ready for you, John," he turned to find the woman smiling at him warm and bright.

John Wick tried to speak but could not, he loved the sight of his lost lover but tears were stealing her away, making his vision blurred and incomplete. He resisted blinking, knowing if he gave in when his eyes reopened she would no longer be there. But he could not prevent it anymore than he had been able to keep her from dying. Naturally, instinctively, his eyelids lowered and raised and then Helen Wick was gone.

The scent of slick made him turn to the Omega whom remained by his side and was still clasping his hand tightly in her own. He saw Erin clearly; she was looking at him with sorrow and need. It was the sight of her eyes, green-gray, large and beautiful, which made him feel another painful surge of arousal.

He felt his cock becoming suddenly wet but not just from his own precome.

The sensation of flooding, warm, wet fluid startled him to consciousness and John opened his eyes in reality to find himself in Erin's large bed in the small bedroom of her cheap but cozy apartment. The Omega was held safely in his embrace and his cock was still nestled between the space under her full buttocks and between her plump thighs. Now it wasn't only his body's own fluid leaking out from his stiff member, however, but the woman's fluid as well. Slick had started to gush out from her soft body, coating his erection, soothing it, and making it contrastingly hard. He could feel it on his glans, falling into his slit, on every vein, nerve and fiber of his penis and felt pleasure almost as if it was a locomotive crashing into his body at full speed.

"John," he heard Erin's plaintive cry as she presumably was stirred from her own sleep by the knowledge that she had finally made the difficult journey from preheat to heat.

The High Table's most infamous assassin let not one second pass before taking the Omega's head in his hands and moving it so he could kiss her lips. It was a fierce action one which she returned more confidently the more his lips lingered on hers and the kiss deepened. Oh he was hungry for her! His cock so close to her entrance and the tempting urge to take her from behind! Still he forced himself to wait, his hands lowering to her large breasts instead, wanting to bring Erin pleasure by exploring her plump, full body and properly savoring her for the first time.

* * *

I was kissing John back.

His lips had managed to push away my insecurity and bring out some more confident creature inside of me. My mouth opened and I felt his tongue entering, pushing against my own until they were caressing each other in heated curiousity. Some of his saliva leaked inevitably into my mouth, as mine did with his, but we accepted this exchange of fluid knowing an even more intimate one was to follow.

John Wick's hands moved to my breasts and grasped one each, my nipples responding to the feel of the palms of his hands by tingling and trying to emerge. I gasped at the feel of his fingers starting to rub and tease my nipples as he still clutched the massive flesh of each of my breasts hungrily.

"Unh..." I made a little noise feeling slick squirt out from my opening. I was enjoying the Alpha's touch and the way that my breasts felt in the cups of his eager hands. His touch, their heaviness was pleasing to me and I moaned deeply, a sound emanating deeply from the lungs on the other side of my breasts. John growled in satisfaction, feeling my chest heaving in his grip from the noise I had just made.

I began to wiggle my ass against the erection I felt pressing into the skin on my rear, an action which caused my lover to roar loudly as a torrent of precome flew out from his excited cock. Encouraged, I rubbed my bum all the more against the appreciative organ, causing more precome to come out of it and John to squeeze my chest even more enthusiastically.

Wanting him inside of me, knowing he wanted it too and could easily have taken me then, I parted my legs and tried to lower my body onto the tower of John Wick's cock behind me. I was shocked when the assassin escaped my maneuverings, however, and effortlessly changed our position so he was leaning over me as I lay back down on the bed. I squirmed beneath him, all need and desire, parting my legs and trying to offer him my wet and waiting hole once more. This coaxed another loud call from the Alpha who chose to bury his head ravenously into my breasts instead.

"Ahhhhh!" I screamed as his mouth eventually went from kissing the pale, soft skin of my breasts to clamping down on my right nipple and sucking on it as if he were feeding.

My chest had always been too sensitive. Even as a young girl, I'd matured too early and received too much pleasure from it. I could remember being ten or eleven years old, in my bedroom watching tv and starting to play with my right breast only to remember my older sister was sitting on the bed behind me. I'd turned around to find her staring at me like I was some kind of freak and had felt horribly ashamed of my meant to be secret act.

Now John Wick was the one playing with my chest and my sister was still back up in Canada and thankfully nowhere around to see it and look at us in disapproval. Shame had no place here, only desire and pleasure. My legs moved to wrap around his waist as he continued to lose himself in my breasts. While his tongue was rolling around the teat he was causing to come out, his hand went to grab my other breast, giving it a few squeezes before beginning to rub the nipple. I cried out loudly as John Wick continued this for a while and then switched his action, his mouth now finding my left breast and his hand my right.

My clit was swelling, feeling like it was on fire while my vagina was feeling pleasurable preparation of its own, waiting for John's penis to come inside and complete the woman it belonged to. I could feel his erection wet and dripping on to my stomach, painting on it some abstract design in his precome. My butt rose repeatedly from the mattress to rub against it and try to coax the cock to come inside. But its owner was too busy with my breasts still and the feeling between my legs was growing to a point where I felt as if I was going to pee.

"John..." I called out again as he thrusted against but not inside me and his mouth gave a lusty suckle on my breast.

The feeling reached its height suddenly and I was shaking beneath him as my lower regions went mad in a violent burst of convulsions. More cries of delight, which sounded almost opposingly painful, escaped me until I fell back on to the bed, panting from the carnal orchestrations my body had just suffered.

John Wick raised his head from my breasts and I looked from my raised teats, glistening with his saliva, to his still hungry and somewhat bemused face.

"Just from that?" he asked.

I nodded.

"You haven't seen anything yet," he mumbled and started to move his mouth down the length of my body.

He left prints with his lips as he kissed my stomach, I could see them shining, and I thought of them as footprints on the pale white sand of my stomach. His beard was prickly and soft all at once and when he finally reached my furry mound and kissed it it was hard to tell his thick stubble from the hair I had down there as well. When John Wick's tongue appeared after that brave kiss, it trailed lower until it dipped into my folds and found the bud hidden inside.

"Hanhhhn..." I moaned as my Alpha lover's tongue began to dance with my reawakening clit. It came to instant consciousness at his arrival. John started to clean around the bud with his tongue but I knew that it was a hopeless endeavor: more slick was bound to flood around it from my increasing state of arousal. John Wick licked this up as if it was his favorite wine, though: one he hadn't been allowed to enjoy in a dog's age. The hitman was apparently enjoying tasting me and I was enjoying being tasted.

My right hand went to his head and grabbed a handful of his dark, long hair as I involuntarily began to writhe underneath him when his lips surrounded my clit and he began to suck. The feeling of John's mouth working me and the sight of his face pushed into my vulva was causing me to come again. I could feel it now, the delightful pressure building. I surrendered willingly to my body's need, letting it build, until I was convulsing once more. After the last spasm, I relinquished my hold on the hitman and fell down again, giving my nipples a few playful pinches to mix with my glorious afterglow.

I looked down my plump body to see John Wick repositioning himself as he lustfully stared at me playing with myself. His cock was almost scarlet, big and raw seeming; veins like rope stood up on its shaft while its mushroomed head was spitting out great gobs of the Alpha's precome. Oh it was frightening and beautiful and oh so sore looking and my opening twitched a few times knowing it could be the balm which would bring to it some healing.

"Come inside me," I invited, spreading my legs and feeling a fresh flood of slick falling off on to the bedsheet.

"This first," John Wick said and placed his hands on each of my thighs before lowering his head between my legs and into my labia once more; this time his destination the hole intended for him.

I felt his tongue lapping up my body's torrent as he made his way to my private threshold. He found it easily enough and I tensed even past the return of my arousal which my heat never let stay too far away. Trying to brace myself, my thoughts latched on to the hope that he would not notice the thin layer of film over my vagina and what its presence meant. 

My hope was a deceitful virtue I knew, though, from the way that the Alpha's tongue inside me backed away instantly, in shock, before reaching forward again to search for a longer time that which it had unexpectedly found.

John Wick took his head out of my divided mound and rose to his knees, looking down at me in shock as precome continued to fall from his penis like some kind of obscene waterfall.

"You're a _virgin_ ," he stated.

I could only give to him a hopeless, "Yes."

For I saw the sudden fear enter John Wick's brown eyes and knew from my answer that it might mean his leaving and the need deep inside both my body and heart remaining painfully unfulfilled.


	9. Inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I attempt to bring John Wick out of his fear and into desire once more.

Waiting to fully take her had been a hard task for the painfully aroused Alpha John Wick. Still playing with her body beforehand had brought with it its own enormous pleasures. Taking a fat breast in each of his hands and feeling its soft fullness, John had enjoyed their heaviness and the way that even his own large hands could not completely hold all of the flesh of them. Helen had been an A cup. He had no idea what Erin was but his guess was it was several letters past that first letter of the Alphabet. He felt a twinge of guilt knowing that he was now delighting in the fact of this Omega's full figure when the love of his life had been so contrastingly thin and small. Still while his brain was feeling shame his body was suffering only arousal and he could not stop his hands from exploring nor his member from swelling all the more from fondling the woman's large breasts. The nipples on each of them were pressing against the palms of his hands, trying to come out. His fingers went to tease them, rubbing them gently.

"Unh," she sounded and a burst of slick flooded between her legs and streamed towards his cock nestled between them. It felt warm and soothing on his deliciously throbbing erection.

When Erin moaned and her breasts pressed even more against the cups of his hands from the movement of her lungs, Wick made a coinciding growl from his subsequent delight. His sound of approval coaxed the woman in his arms into bolder action and she began to rub her ass in a sensuously circular movement against his weeping cock. Forcefully a great spurt of precome came out of the organ simultaneously with a well pleased roar from his higher oral orifice. In return, the sound caused the Omega to grind her buttocks against him even more brazenly. Turned on to the point of almost losing control, the Alpha began to squeeze her huge breasts vigorously, relishing in how full they were in his grasp.

Parting her legs, John knew that Erin was inviting him to enter her but he had other plans. Touch was one thing, taste was another, and he intended to have his fill of the woman in this way before he finally let his cock have the joy of reaching its final destination. Though he had spent more time as a killer than a lover these past few months, his assassin's grace translated well to the bedroom as he easily maneuvered their bodies so he was on top of his lover, leaning over her as she lay on her back on the mattress. He studied her lying there, her pale breasts baring the imprints of his fingernails from his frenzied grasping of them and her face blushed with desire. She wriggled and squirmed underneath him, parting her legs to offer him yet another chance to come inside her.

John Wick felt more liquid drip down his length as if it were using precome instead of words to plead with him to just enter the Omega and be done with this painful and needless show of patience. Mad with lust, and in need of distracting action, John buried his bearded face into his mate's equally inviting chest. He started to kiss the skin there greedily, the softness of the skin wonderful feeling against his lips. Seeing a pink nipple so close to him, still not fully emerged from its place of hiding, John took it in his mouth and startled to suckle it with all the passion as if he were trying to draw milk from it. Erin went wild beneath him from the act. She screamed out loudly and started to rumple his hair, pulling his head closer towards her. Her hands roamed lower to his neck, to his back, digging into his skin as he continued to suck on her now erect teat. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he continued to adore her nipple, his tongue rolling around it lazily. When he brought his hand to her other breast, and then eventually flipped his actions, the Omega was obviously being brought to some new height in her physical ecstasy. She was lifting her buttocks off of the mattress to rub herself against his eagerly responding cock, desperately trying to urge him to fill her. He resisted again, still focusing on her heaving and sensitive breasts. Still he could not stop himself from thrusting his hips and rubbing his very wet cock against her smooth round stomach.

"John," she cried out suddenly and the assassin felt her body begin a violent dance beneath him as she came. Almost painful cries of pleasure escaped from her as she suffered the first orgasm he was to bring to her and the Alpha revelled in it as his mouth remained wrapped around her nipple.

Raising his head finally and seeing his saliva glistening on almost every inch of her chest, John Wick met the half lidded, eyes of his climaxed lover and felt a flash of Alpha pride seize him. "Just from that?" he asked her, possessive of the look of almost confused bliss in her green-gray dazed eyes.

She nodded shyly as if embarrassed by her body's inability to fend off its climax, driving him crazy with the need to make her do it again.

"You haven't seen anything yet," John Wick promised as he started to kiss down the length of her curvy, plump body.

Still tingling from her skin, which was so soft it felt like he was kissing a cloud, Wick finally reached her vulva. It was covered in auburnish brown fur and he kissed it tenderly before letting his tongue lick downwards until it dipped into the folds of her labia and found her once more sleeping clit. It had been so long since he had tasted a woman, not since Helen had fallen into the coma she had never awakened from and which had signalled the death which was approaching. Now the familiar taste of slick and everything he deeply associated with anything female flooded his mouth and made his own taste buds come to life. It was not his own buds reawakening that he was interested in at the moment, the Alpha knew.

In an attempt to clean off the dormant clit, John rolled his tongue around it catching the slick and fluid and swallowing it with relish. Erin shifted and he felt her clitoris start to swell as he paid it more attention. More slick quickly flooded what he had lapped up, and John savored it. Erin receptive to this endeavor grabbed a handful of his hair and writhed in pleasure as his head was buried into her as she endured the pleasure of him tasting her. She moaned, disrupting the silence with appealing noises until he decided to take the clitoris inside of his mouth to suck on just as he had done with the peaks of her breasts. Listening to her low sweet sounds as his face was touching the tender skin on her vulva, it did not take long before he felt her coming again, her body releasing more slick which fell freely onto his bearded chin.

At about the same time Erin released her grip on his hair, John Wick took his head out of her crotch only to raise it to find her playing with her breasts. It was a sight which unexpectedly excited him and he felt his penis spitting out precome in its angry demand to just get to the act that taunted him. Its irritation must not have gone unnoticed for in sympathy the Omega spread her legs wide, her labia enflamed in arousal, and proposed, "Come inside me."

"This first," the Alpha stated, rested a hand on each of the woman's knees, and lowered his head to her lower lips in order to seek her hole to tend to it first with his tongue before filling it with his larger, more demanding organ.

His tongue slinked in again and traced her crack before searching for her vaginal entrance an act which made his mate tense oddly for some reason. When he finally found it, John felt some other unexpected item brush against his tongue which prevented easy access. Pulling the probing pink part of his mouth away in shock, John Wick just as quickly brought it forward again to feel the thin layer again just to be sure. His penis throbbed in delight as the assassin knew that his first assumption had been correct:

His tongue had touched an intact hymen.

Drawing back swiftly and kneeling before Erin, whom was staring at him in obvious fright, he peered down at her in shock.

"You're a virgin," he muttered.

"Yes," she replied in a tone which spoke of hopelessness and the shattering of dreams.

Fear seized John Wick and shame. He had assumed that Erin had had lovers before him. Never once had it occurred to him that she had never made love. His cock twitching in expectation, he backed away a half inch disappointing it further.

A virgin...

It was every Alpha's unspoken wish to be the first for their mate. It was a primal urge and desire to be the first to conquer and claim, imprinted on them at birth and felt in the first stirrings of each of their sexual awakenings.

Yet Helen had not been a virgin when he had found her.

And the fact had always been one of the secret regrets he had hidden during their time together.

He could not mate with the woman lying on the bed, the tears falling from her eyes and on to the pillow under her head. To do so felt suddenly like a sacrilege in regards to his life with Helen. John Wick moved a full inch away from her and was surprised when the Omega almost instantly rose to her own knees in a few beats of his racing heart and neared him, resolve shining in beautiful eyes still glistening with tears not yet shed.

* * *

I didn't know what I was doing! Why on earth I was getting to my knees other than the simple fact that I desperately desired the Alpha backing away and wanted to have his erect member so far inside of me and knotted that we were one human being lost in the act of creation. If he hadn't been so willfully pleasing me before his discovery, if he wasn't still erect, dripping precome like he was a stormcloud, and if I hadn't believed his sudden reluctance to follow through the foreplay to the actual event had to do with some fear that he'd hurt me or I wouldn't be good enough for him I would not have found the bravery to do what I did next.

"What? Do you think I can't handle this?" I asked taking his swollen penis in my hand and attempting to show him just how well I could despite my inexperience.

His body trembled in lust from my touch and this urged me to bring my other hand to it also to start ministering to the grateful organ in all the ways I'd read about in the dirty manuscripts it was my job to type up but had never experienced for myself before.

"You think I don't want to handle this," I cooed, running both my hands greedily up and down the shaft and applying the right amount of pressure to aid in his pleasure.

A gush of precome quickly flew out of the slitted head and greased up my hands well and proper enough to continue pleasing him. I watched as the fear slowly crawled out of his eyes, retreating to a far back corner of his emotions as desire took the driver's seat in the body I was currently driving stick shift with.

I had spent my entire life as an Omega believing that I had no power, that it was the Alphas of the world that possessed all of the control and that we were only servants to them to be used, oftentimes abused and then thrown away. However, playing with John Wick's cock, I knew that that belief might have been a fallacy. Watching the ecstasy I could bring to him and the sexual urges connected deeply to being an Alpha I could see visible in every twitch of his mouth, hear with every grunt that he made and feel with every fresh spurt of precome, I understood that he was a slave and powerless in his own right and that right then, in spite of my Omega nature, I was the one whom held all the power.

Instead of feeling stronger, however, or empowered, I felt only sympathy for the usually reserved and in control of himself assassin for the High Table. I wanted to attend to his body's demands now first and worry about power, control, weakness and fears later.

My hand's movements on the furiously leaking organ became more sensuous as I tried to please it even more.

"You like that, John? Do you like me?" I asked.

In response he reached around and grabbed by buttocks, pushing me slightly upward and pulling me closer to him as he buried his head into my chest and began to kiss and suckle again. Slick dripped out freely from me, falling onto my hands and John Wick's already drenched penis. I threw my head back and let out my own desperate moan, the space between my legs on fire and my hole almost aching for the cock in my hand to finally be out of my outward grasp and in my inward one instead. John took his head away from my breasts and I moved my head forward again. He looked up at me seemingly in sudden awareness of my own need that he was letting remain unfulfilled and I looked down at him at his obvious compassion mingled with his lust. Removing a hand from off of his penis, I brushed a strand of his dark hair away from his sweat covered face. I noticed that his beard was painted similarly with my slick from when he had feasted on me. I smiled down at him in what I hoped conveyed my affection for him. We stayed locked like that for a few suspended seconds until John Wick grabbed me by the hips and lifted my body violently upwards. Knowing what he was about to do, I removed my hands from his member and grabbed his strong back. Our eyes still locked we breathed heavily and lustily in anticipation. His hands strong and fingers splayed upon my hips, he suddenly lowered my body forcefully downwards, impaling me on his awaiting phallus. At the same time, the penis met my opening, tearing for the first time in my life the part of me which had terrified my lover, John Wick's mouth found my own again. My cry of pain flew down his throat and I felt the hitman's arms wrapping around me, trying to offer some kind of solace for my hopefully momentary suffering. They quickly lowered to my butt again and began to massage the bottom part close to the perineum where my skin was very tender. Breaking our kiss, he returned his mouth to the soft flesh of my breasts and my nipples. He was an assassin, trained to know his adversaries well. This same skill he now turned on me, his lover, having known from the first time he had made me come that my chest was linked to my erotic pleasure. Tears were falling from my eyes. He felt too big and I was suddenly not sure I could handle it afterall. Then John shifted, bringing his knee up to rest against my ass cheek and in his movement I gasped from my first glimpse of pleasure as his cock moved inside of me and against my walls, the act reaching my clit also.

Hearing my surprised sound, John attempted another minor move and the bliss flashed again. I made a hungry desperate noise as I moved my body so that my leg closest to his raised knee wrapped around his waist. I moved my bottom up and down and screamed out loudly as I felt John Wick's penis hitting something that felt oh too good inside of me. John took a large handful of my other cheek and I instinctively wrapped my other leg around his waist, grinding my crotch against his lap. He moaned deep and resonant as my movement caused him equal pleasure and then buried his face between my large breasts again.

Our lower extremities started tentative actions that became more bold as my pain disappeared, exchanged for pure delight as my Alpha filled me to what felt like capacity, sliding up and down inside of me as he returned to pleasuring my chest. Feeling Wick's hands on my back, he parted from me gently pushing me back so I was lying on his raised knee partly. Displayed before him, John started to run his exploring hands over my body, stopping to return often to my chest so he could squeeze my breasts and rub and pinch my nipples. Fingertips gently met my erected nips and massaged them and I wriggled as the sensation shot straight down to the area being inhabited by my Alpha lover.

"John," I cried out as I rubbed my groin against his and felt him knotting deeply in the safety of my cunt. "Unhhhh..."

Slowly my mate took his knee away, replacing it with his cupped hand while he placed me slowly back down on the mattress. My hole was twitching as it felt the lovely knot which had always scared me somewhat when I'd heard it mentioned in my ignorant youth. I thought it might hurt but this...oh this was nowhere near pain! My clit was throbbing as I moved back and forth, up and down on John's crotch. There was no longer any fear that the Alpha would be leaving me now: he was sucessfully locked in place, our bodies not able to separate until he was spent and his own desire culminated.

John lowered himself on top of me and started to thrust in such a way that it was forceful yet tender somehow all at once. He was hitting everything that he intended to and I found myself coming almost immediately; My body was wracked with convulsions again that were heaven turned flesh, I feared that this would bring John to his own release and he would leave me too soon.

I was wrong however.

John Wick was not finished with me yet.

He made me climax time and time again over the next hour while he ravished me to his heart and member's content. Everytime I thought he could not draw some new sensation from my body I would find him trying some fresh action or touch and I would find myself growing towards that familiar and addictive orchestration of pressure, climax and relief. I orgasmed repeatedly while John enjoyed the sounds of my cries of pleasure as if they were renewing him and keeping him hard: The very same wonderful hardness which was fulfilling me. For so long I had made it through my heats without knowing what it would be like to have that ache answered. Now John Wick was educating me on what that pain really meant:

The absence of him from my life and body.

And its only cure:

The arrival of him into both as well.

When the Alpha heard my voice growing hoarse from too many shouts and felt my body tiring from too much ecstasy he came as well with his own loud cry and I felt his seed, hot and plentiful reach my womb and paint it violently from within.

The beautiful little knot retracted, John pulled out and fell down beside me. Our bodies seemed to possess an extra layer of skin comprised of nothing but sweat and body fluid which seemed to have gotten all over the mattress in our coupling and all over us in return after so much time spent rolling and traversing the world of it underneath us. We lay in each other's arms knowing that it would be only a few minutes before our shatex needs returned and demanded attention and satisfaction.

"Why didn't you tell me?" John Wick asked, nuzzling my jaw with his bearded face.

"I was afraid you wouldn't want me still," I replied, stroking the back of his neck, wiping away the strands of hair clinging to it from the sweat. "Why did you back away?"

He pressed his forehead into my cheek now and his voice was low when he mumbled his reply.

"Helen wasn't a virgin...I was afraid that it would hurt her if I took you knowing that you were...that it made it special."

My heart broke knowing how much he still loved the woman whom had died. I grabbed his head and backed away in order to look into his almond shaped and beautiful brown eyes.

"This is just a need. It isn't special. It isn't love. It's just you taking care of your body's needs and escaping the High Table's plans for you. Nothing for you to feel ashamed about John Wick."

I told him this but they were the hardest words I had ever had to speak for I knew that while they were true for him they were not for me: I was in love with John Wick.

* * *

John looked up at Erin and saw in her eyes the simple truth that she was lying. It was written there as clearly as the thin layer he had felt blocking her entrance.

He kissed her out of gratitude for the lie and immediately experienced more guilt over this action, one which should have been innocent compared to what they had just done together.

But the kiss felt too intimate in an odd way and too similar to love.


	10. Surrounded by Fingers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Wick leaves me with a gift as my time of heat comes to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arghhh! What do you mean John Wick 4 is preempted until 2022? Gah. Well, at least, maybe I'll be done this and my other JW fic by then. :/
> 
> I have an idea for the JW series Ballerina btw if anybody connected to that is interested. I don't think it's half bad. I don't think it's half good either though so...🤣

We spent about four glorious days lost in each other as we fulfilled both of our mutual needs. Often as John Wick was buried deep inside of my body and my limbs were wrapped around his own, as we both joyfully gave and received pleasure, I knew once more that _this_ was what it was meant to be like. All of those years suffering my heats in silence and alone had been painful. Yet I was also equally aware that if I had satisfied them with anyone but John it would _not_ have been in any way as good. I still believed, always would past even my dying day, that this act meant _more_ if you did it with someone that you honestly cared for and knew that you could trust.

And I did trust John. The fact that he was a killer didn't negate that fact.

One time shortly after the Alpha had entered me for the first time, we were locked together again, this time with Wick behind me when we both heard a sound at the door and turned in unison, with labored breaths, to find Dog sitting in the doorframe panting in a similar fashion to us but enjoying himself far less.

John gave me a few energetic thrusts and my breasts a few lusty squeezes before he muttered, "Oh yeah...I guess, I should have left him with Charon."

I looked over my shoulder at my bearded lover. The name sounded like Sharon but it wasn't. Still I was more than a little curious, wondering if it belonged to a sibling of the assassin. I still knew so very little about him. Obsessed and fascinated with him I now longed for any crumb of insight into the life he was trying to keep me separated from.

"Who's Charon?"

"He's the concierge at the Continental," John answered. "The hotel where I'm staying."

He looked immediately regretful at having revealed this much about his life. To make him feel better, I wriggled my ass against him a bit more intensely which, from his grunt, seemed to send a bolt of vivid bliss to his carnal senses. He started to grab at me more energetically, which I had thought impossible before, and pushed with even more vigour.

We became lost in our passion again, beginning to cry out and forgetting Dog's presence until he hopped on to the bed, reminding us of his digestive track's needs.

John growled in frustration as we both felt guilty and annoyed.

"I bought some dog food the day I got the key duplicated. Along with some training pads."

"You did?"

I nodded and smiled. "They're in the cupboard under the sink."

John Wick kissed my forehead and I glowed knowing I had pleased him. "Smart," he praised and I kissed him fiercely as if trying to swallow the compliment and thus absorb it into the body he had entered completely, both physically and spiritually.

* * *

It took about twenty minutes for his body to finally give up his flood of seed into Erin and he could finally attend to his impatient canine. John swung his legs over the bed's edge and stood, hearing the Omega doing the same behind him.

"I gotta pee," she stated so bluntly it made him smile and laugh, a silent action. "I'll show you where the stuff is before I do."

He watched her scurrying out the door in front of him and friskily cupped her ass cheek, earning a giggle from her.

In the kitchen, John and Dog watched as the Omega got out two bowls and filled one with water. While she bent over to fetch the dog food, Dog immediately went to the bowl with the water and started to lap it up. John watched as Erin grabbed a bag of dog food from under the cupboard and plopped it down on the floor. She left the cupboard open, stating, "The pads are in there too."

She ripped open the bag, picked it up and went to the doggy bowl to begin pouring it. While Dog abandoned his drink in order to feast on the chow instead, John Wick studied his new mate and noticed liquid trailing down her left inner thigh. It was the fluid accumulation of about two hours worth of sex. Her slick and cream joined with his precum and cum, all mixed together as their bodies had been. The sight of it running down her leg was turning him on again, a fact she could have easily have been able to tell since he was standing there stark naked, but she remained innocently ignorant, focused on her task instead. Once the bowl was filled she was hurrying off to the bathroom, leaving John behind and growing painfully aroused.

He placed a few training pads on the living room floor, Dog being as big as he was. Meanwhile, John's thoughts remained hopelessly fixed on his own erection and desire for the Omega. Remembering her having looked so vulnerable while she had been nesting, the assassin for the High Table felt his Alpha aggression come to the forefront. He passed Dog, whom only looked up absently for about half a second, on his speedy way to the bathroom.

Erin was obviously heading towards the door when he opened it and she managed to take a step back before it hit her in the face. John was going to apologize but her already big eyes flew open about an inch wider in diameter and looked so caught unaware and a little frightened and helpless that he hardly had the time to, not with his dick's insistence to just find its demanding way back between her legs. Taking her into his arms, he gently placed her into the bathtub filled with her blankets and started to kiss her neck as he pushed his swollen organ forcefully into her perfectly slicked hole once more.

* * *

When John had threw open the door to the bathroom, I was just about terrified it was a member of the High Table he was employed by only to be relieved that it was only my Alpha instead. He'd suddenly looked so intense and dangerously determined, though, that I could not help feeling some vague fear seize me. I knew that this was probably what the men he had killed had felt like when he had come to take their lives: terror, a last ardent clinging to survival and a strange exhilaration. Or maybe that last one was only due to my love for him and the Omega in me responding to his Alphaness. He was tall, naked and beautiful, and slick was bursting out from me, edged forward by my flash of startling arousal.

The Alpha took hold of me and we were falling into the bathtub which had been my heating sight for years now as his lips started to kiss and suckle the gland on my neck. My legs spread instinctively as his enflamed organ found its new residence and began its movement back and forth.

I screamed out again as he managed to hit just where it felt good inside of my silken tunnel. My fingers grasped his back and my legs kicked from the pleasure making me buck. One foot hit one of the handles and I heard water begin to rush out of the faucet as if jealously imitating the precum John Wick was furiously gushing into me. Not knowing if I'd hit the hot or cold tap, I used my other foot to kick the other one in order to balance the water so it wouldn't burn or freeze us as Wick continued to pound into me.

A blanket must have been blocking the drain for I felt the many blankets underneath us beginning to become soaked and make gushing sounds from our passionately frantic grappling with each other. I moved a bit so I was slightly more propped up, my arms wrapping around John's neck. He slid with me, not letting our bodies part, a fact further aided by the return of his knot. My feet were becoming wet and I began to rub them against the assassin's wonderfully large ass, wetting it with the warm water.

We were thrashing around, the water surrounding us now and overflowing and splashing on to the floor. Bobby Darrin's "Splish Splash" started going through my mind and I realized as I was starting to moan and scream that it was to the tune of that song. John was making his own deep noises as he took me. A new sound started to fill the bathroom then but it came from neither of us.

The man in the apartment beside mine had started to bang loudly on the wall.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU TWO! THERE ARE DECENT PEOPLE LIVING IN THIS SHITHOLE YOU DIRTY, FUCKIN' LOUD PERVERTS!"

I guessed, that the acoustics were better in the bathroom. I almost felt sorry for the guy. After years of thinking I was a nice, quiet, little neighbor I had turned into a loud and noisy sex maniac overnight.

John seemed undaunted, continuing to make me moan and cry out as he thrusted to both of our pleasure. There was a small pond on the floor and we were doing our best to turn it into a lake from our wild horizontal bathtub bop. By the time we both came, I was surprised we didn't need a boat to get out of the bathroom safely or that the man hadn't knocked a hole in the wall. I went to climb out to make it safely back to the bedroom when I slipped and fell backwards on to John. Fearing I had hurt him and he'd be suddenly reaware of my weight, I looked behind me as I lay against him in the porcelain tub. He only hugged me, though, and kissed my cheek.

"Slippery when wet," I joked.

"I hope," he stated as his hand reached into the folds between my thighs.

* * *

As John Wick lost himself in his sexual devouring of the Omega he had chosen, he found that his tongue seemed to be loosened in way. Perhaps from having been put to good use on Erin during the time of her heat, he found them spending the time between their couplings filled with conversation. It was usually light hearted topics. The Alpha also made sure that he did not repeat his previous mistake of revealing something as personal as where he stayed when he was not with her. That had been a verbal slip equal to the physical one the woman had made in the bathtub. Any divulgence could end up hurting Erin more than she could evef suspect. The less she knew about the world he existed in the better.

Still she seemed eager to learn about him and to talk. After one enthusiastic bit of sexual play, she propped her head up on her hand as her elbow rested on her pillow and stared down at him. "What super hero talent would you possess if you could?" she asked.

He stared at her in bemusement. It was hard to tell her that he was already the Baba Yaga: Most super heroes would be envious of him. Still he gave it some thought. The memory of his fall from the Continental rooftop came back to him full force, the various fixtures on the building, and the one beside it, hitting him painfully on the way down while the ground below rushed forwards to meet him.

"Flying," he replied. "You?"

"Well I read once in this book this girl who had the power to fix anything so it wouldn't ever break again. I think that would be great...But, on a more realistic, human scale, I wish I had the ability to admit when I was wrong. That seems to be the hardest thing for a human being to do...to admit that they've been wrong and an idiot. What would your human talent be?"

His addendum to the answer to the question was quickly forgotten about, however, as he contemplated it only to hear Erin moan desperately beside him as another wave of physical desire and need claimed her.

This need he could answer far more easier than her question.

* * *

I loved hearing John Wick talk.

Even if it wasn't often.

I loved the sound of his voice and tried to think of any old question to get him to speak so his deep voice could resonate off of the bedroom walls as we lay next to each other and often in one another arms; Each syllable was a vibration which I felt reverberate straight to my heart. I wondered if he could feel it beating quickly and deeply for him? Did he know that it was his? He surely knew I was probing him for more information, and just to hear him speak, but was kindly playing along for the sake of my fancy.

Our lovemaking was filled with our bodies own revelations and these were always easier for the man. When the final one came, marking the end of my heat, I was filled with a painful sorrow as I knew it would mean his leaving. John looked down at me and seemed to know that it was over now as well.

Maybe my tears told him of this fact more than anything else.

He kissed them away and then my forehead, fell to my side and held me again. After a good half hour of painting his chest with fresh tears, ones sent to replace the others he had swallowed long ago, and having kissed it also, John moved away a bit in order to look into my eyes. "I have to go," he announced.

I nodded and bit the lip that he would soon kiss before he climbed out of the bed and started to get dressed. Pushing my exhausted body upwards, I rested with back against the pillows and watched him. My brain committed each of his actions to memory so as to keep them close to my heart, knowingI could not be sure when I would see him next.

* * *

John Wick tried to avoid looking at Erin as she gazed at him as he dressed. He knew it would only make it harder to leave when he had finished so he avoided it and focused on his clothing instead and the fact that by now the Table and its Administrator would be getting antsy for his return. Only when he grabbed his tie from the floor did he return his vision to her. Wick fixed his tie and looked at her lying back on the bed. Her flesh was soft, pale and inviting. He thought of having to return to the Continental instead of staying with her, of having to see and avoid Winston and his haggard, old face and apologetic manner. In a perfect world, he could have stayed with her here in the little apartment and been content. However, he was not allowed that comfort without the fear of the High Table discovering her and possibly using or hurting her in order to get to him.

His return to the Continental and his having to endure Winston's ever obvious regret and guilt was not only secured but necessary.

Remembering Erin's earlier unanswered query he finally found his answer.

"I wish I could forgive and forget," John Wick stated sadly as he straightened his tie.

* * *

It took me a moment to realize what he was talking about before understanding flooded in quickly. He had returned to my question regarding a human super talent.

His dark eyes were dead seeming then as he made his choice which sounded like a confession, another one equally as strong as the one made about the Continental being where he currently lived.

Knowing it was important to him, I uttered one solitary word, "Who?"

to which he responded

"A man named Winston."

I retaliated with a "Why?"

But I had overcrossed my bounds and he would reveal no more.

* * *

He'd said too much, John Wick knew so he kept his mouth shut but walked back towards the bed to say goodbye to his mate with an action and not a word. It was also meant to prove to her worried mind that he was not mad at her but only fate.

The Alpha leaned forward and kissed her thin, frowning lips and she tightly grasped his tie in her cute, pudgy hands as if foolishly believing in doing so she possessed the physical strength to keep him there.

Her eyes pleaded "Stay," but he couldn't, not when it meant risking hurting her. Still seeing the tie in her hand, surrounded by her fingers, John was reminded of her holding his erect cock, the one she had taken care of for four solid days. In a quick, assured movement of his hand he undid his work from only a few moments ago. When he parted from her, the tie came off in her grip and he left the black article of clothing with her as he turned and walked away, feeling that it was an appropriate parting gift to leave her with.

It was as black as his soul felt after all. Especially when departing from his act of making love to her in order to return to his seemingly senseless gift for killing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. Sex is done for a bit. Back to the plot next week.
> 
> The talent for fixing broken things I learned of from Tanith Lee's beautiful Unicorn trilogy.
> 
> Keanu, we're both Canadians right? In a way at least...How about putting Chilliwack's "My Girl" in the next JW film? Please?


	11. On a Street Corner that Doesn't Exist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Wick returns to the Continental and has an uneasy conversation with Winston while I return to work and do a little investigating during my lunch hour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure who pays attention to my other Keanu character fics or not but I wanted to let anybody that does know that my sis' birthday is coming up so I may miss a day with updates because I am writing a Poirot fic especially for her. That said, I hope to still be able to update one of my regular fics in a day or two if I can manage it. A new fic is coming soon too. I love writing these things; I love writing. Anyway, thanks for reading and God bless! :D <3

The Continental was the same as when he had left it, for better or worse. A few other assassins marked his entrance with curiousity and John Wick understood that news of his single act of disobedience to the High Table had spread in his absence. Dog took the stares as he took everything else done in the realm of human beings: as just a simple act he hardly cared to afford the time to understand.

As he approached the front desk, John thought he caught a glimpse of casual interest even in Charon's usually reserved dark eyes. It made the hitman somewhat embarrassed, especially when knowing that the subject revolved entirely around his sex life.

"You have returned, Mr. Wick," Charon greeted.

"Yeah," John answered.

"Mr. Winston wanted me to inform you that he requested a meeting upon your arrival."

John Wick cursed under his breath. He had not expected this, having to briefly pass by his Judas, yes, but not a full out enforced and necessary meeting which would entail more than just a few curt words.

"Is that necessary, Charon?" Wick asked, trying to find a way out of it. His room with its bed and hot shower seemed far more inviting than a discussion with a man he now hated only a little less than the High Table itself.

"I am afraid he _insisted_ , Sir."

No curse this time, only a sigh. If he did not go through with the unpleasantness of talking with Winston he might not have a bed or a shower over at all. Winston had already shown to him that he was capable of a far deeper cruelty than taking the roof from over his head when he'd shot him off of that very same roof months ago.

"Where is he?"

"In his office, I believe."

"Take care of Dog, won't you?" John Wick asked in defeat.

"Always a pleasure," Charon agreed to the task.

"Thanks," the Alpha hitman said as he walked towards Winston's office to fulfill his first bit of unwanted business following his far more enjoyable mating with Erin.

* * *

Meeting with Winston in the man's office was too private a place for John Wick's liking. He would have much rather preferred to have met with him down in the bar or in the lobby, somewhere with other people present so as to dissuade Winston from trying to turn the conversation to matters John Wick no longer wanted to discuss. The Englishman had been drawing ever closer to making an official apology for his act of betrayal and John found he did not want to hear it. As he had spent weeks recuperating in the Bowery King's lair, he had envisioned forcing Winston to beg for his forgiveness. However, when his attempt at overthrowing the Table had failed and he had once more been pressured to accept the offer to become their personal assassin, John Wick had had to let go of any hope of revenge against the New York Continental's manager; not only that, but stay in the very same hotel as well.

It had been awkward in the beginning and they had rarely exchanged a hello between them. Then Winston had tried to reforge a friendship and willingly offer an apology, one which came freely.

The man had actually thought that some form of relationship could be rebuilt between them, just as his precious hotel had been rebuilt after the act of parabellum.

But some relationships formed and then so heartlessly cast aside and broken could not be so easily repaired, John Wick thought bitterly.

At least, not for men like Winston and himself.

John heard the familiar voice telling him to enter and opened the door to find the man sitting at his desk. He hated the way that the Englishman's blue eyes filled with hope and pain the moment that they realized whom his visitor actually was. The pain John Wick found pleased him less than he ever would have suspected while he had spent agonized time healing after his fall; the hope was even worse in its way, however.

"Jonathan," Winston mumbled. "Come in; sit down."

John Wick followed the instructions obediently but with a coolness of manner that the older man could not help but understand. "You wanted to see me?"

Winston stared at him somberly for five seconds. "I wanted to let you know that following your assault on one of the Administrators the Table has informed me of their displeasure at your insubordination. I was told to put in place certain measures to correct you."

"Such as?" John Wick asked, grateful that, at least, he would not be thrown out. He still valued the Continental's "No Business" rule even if he had been cornered into breaking it once and thus falling from grace for a time. The thought of having to find other lodgings had been irritating. There was no possibility he could stay with Erin; it was a dangerous risk he would not even fool himself into contemplating even if the thought of waking up to her was almost a little too enticing at the moment.

"The revocation of several privileges," Winston said moving his hands about gracefully on the surface of his large desk. "Room service and the like. If you go to the bar do not expect Addy to serve you...no more Blanton's I am afraid."

John Wick was thinking he had gotten off rather easily, all things considered, before Winston continued. "They have requested that I place cameras in your room and have you followed, Jonathan, whenever you leave the hotel."

Reading the silent outrage in the assassin's brown eyes, Winston calmly stated. "The former, I cannot see a way out of, I am afraid. However, for the latter I have chosen several of the most inept agents that I know for the position. A man of your skills should not find it too difficult to lose them."

"Thanks," John Wick stated bitterly.

Winston looked momentarily wounded by his former friend's sarcasm but shoved it aside to offer yet another warning. "I must tell you, Jonathan, that Leuce is still upset regarding your rejection of her...services. When she learned you had informed the Table that you would attend to your heat on your own, and had gone off to do so, she trashed her room. No...not trashed. She _destroyed_ it. It seems she views it as a personal insult to her. She was crying blue murder and she intends to make you pay for her humiliation."

"Thanks again for the warning," John said with just as much enthusiasm as his previous expression of gratitude.

"I do not wish to see you hurt," Winston stated back to him, but there was a tinge of defense there now as well.

"Was that your thinking when you shot me off of the roof?"

Winston retained his composure but there was the return of anguish to his blue eyes and a deep breath taken before he spoke next.

"That act destroyed me as much as it did you, Jonathan," Winston confessed. "You are like my son but I saw no way out for either of us in that instance. If I had not pulled that trigger we both would be dead now. And whom would have benefited? I knew that the angels seem to favor you. They were with you when you fell. It couldn't bring about your death anymore than a few bullets put into a bullet proof suit could. But all of the High Table and their legions after your soul...now that was a game you and your angels could not win, I'm afraid."

John Wick glared at the older man. There was some level of truth in his words but the feeling of betrayal and agony would not let him accept them nor would they move him to let go of his hatred. "But they have my soul now anyway, Winston," Wick countered. "Only I am still _alive_."

The Baba Yaga stood and headed for the door.

"What will it take, Jonathan?" Winston now asked and he was infact close to pleading. "What do you want from me? Do you want me to say that I am sorry? I've been saying it in a million different ways since you came here. You see, I never felt though that those two words would suffice it on their own. But...I am sorry. I am most dreadfully sorry."

John Wick's hand was still grasping the doorknob but he could not look back. The apology had finally come and just as he feared it meant very little and did not appease the resentment still harboured deep inside of the soul that no longer belonged to him. He was still not able to master a trait which was bestowed to those regarded as saints: to be able to forgive and forget.

"What will it take?" John Wick repeated. "What do I want from you? Nothing. I no longer want anything from you including your apology."

The door flew open, aided by the forceful push of an angry hand, and John returned to a room which no longer felt safe nor private.

* * *

I fell into a deep sleep for hours after John had left me. My heat, my first _fulfilled_ one, had taken a lot out of me and my body was trying to heal after it. When I awoke, it was to the sad remembrance that John was no longer there and that I was once more alone. The only thing which remained was the tie I was still holding on to and holding close to my heart.

Not wanting to stay in bed and be tormented by my sudden loneliness and pain at my lover's absence, I set about attempting to put everything back to normal. This even caused me pain, though, and I was reluctant to begin, wishing to let the marks left by my Alpha lover linger. Still, slowly, I set about removing the cum and slick covered bedsheets and place them into a garbage bag in order to be taken down to the laundry room to be cleaned. I could smell the scent of them strongly now and knew that the next time I read a passage regarding the scent of sex I would know exactly what they were talking about.

At that point, it occurred to me that John had not scented me as Alphas commonly did only for me to realize that he had purposely been careful; if one of his peers or the High Table had smelled him on me they would have known of our connection and I would have been identified as his mate. This would have endangered me. John had been trying to protect me. Still the Omega in me missed that I had not been marked as his own.

The bathroom proved to be more difficult to return to as it had been; I saw the large puddle still there and my soaked blankets lying in the tub. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair at the work which lay ahead of me before running off to find some towels to use to stop up the mess.

While on my hands and knees on the bathroom tiles, soaking up the water with whatever towels I had found,, I saw a piece of paper lying drenched in the small lake. Picking it up and catching a few of the words which hadn't washed away, I realized that it was John Wick's medical report. It had been stupid of me not to read it, I guessed. But I trusted him and the fact he'd gotten it proved he'd been thinking of my welfare. Something a jerk would never have been doing.

Thinking about how the note concerned our physical joining, I realized how much I missed feeling John buried deep inside of me. My hand moved instinctively to my groin, which felt empty now and aching for the mate it had found to fill it but had returned to his assassin's existence.

Focusing once more on the paper, I saw the disappearing words "-oc-or for th- --w Y-rk ----inental." After working it out for a bit, and feeling like I was on "Wheel of Fortune" (Pat, I need to spin again) I figured out that it had originally said "Doctor for the New York Continental."

The Continental.

Where John Wick was currently staying.

I knew a few more things about him now.

And that he also knew a man named Winston whom he could not forgive for some reason.

But what had this Winston done? It must have been truly horrible for John not to be able to forgive him; especially when it was obviously tearing him apart inside to hold onto that particular betrayal.

My mind was telling me to leave it alone, that it was none of my business and I should let the man have his privacy. However, every time I remembered John's sad eyes when he had confessed that he wanted to forgive this Winston but couldn't, my urge to help him flared and I couldn't deny the urge to find out more and to try to help John Wick. He was my mate now and my protector, an act further proven by his holding back from scenting me. We had entered a bond where we had vowed to tend to each other's needs and protect each other as well. Our bodies' physical requirements were in no way stronger than those of our hearts and souls, and John Wick seemed in desperate _need_ to learn how to forgive the man whom had wounded him somehow.

John Wick was a man whom seemed to have very few friends following the death of his beloved Helen. He traveled throughout the world, and also his life, with only a dog for company. He had me now but I could not enter that other world safely or with his consent. This Winston obviously could, however, and right now my Alpha seemed to need every friend he could find.

Even one whom had hurt him.

I promised myself that the next time I was at work, tomorrow in all likelihood, I would do a little research into exactly what and where this Continental was and if that could help lead me to the man named Winston. Then during my next heat, I could try to find out from John Wick himself the reason for their falling out. Maybe then I could hesitantly try to mend the broken relationship between the two men. 

Being a Pisces, I hoped that I was as natural a peacemaker as my horoscope always claimed I was and that the only fishy thing about me wasn't just that I had _immensely_ enjoyed John Wick making love to me in a tub full of water, some of which had overflowed from the tub and I was currently kneeling in.

Not that I felt remotely bad about that last bit.

Not at all.

* * *

The moment I walked through the door of ErosPsyche, Ivy Bunker swooped down on me and shoved about two dozen dirty manuscripts into my hands. I took it that Christopher had not returned yet from his trip. I hadn't really expected that he would though. His business trips sometimes lasted for months on end and I'd always wind up wondering what was occupying the editor for a pornographic publishing company's time so much. He seemed to have less of a life than I had. Well, at least, before I had come across John Wick that one blessed rainy day.

"You look like you've been fucked," the little woman said, squinting her eyes and staring at me with intense disapproval while I proceeded to turn beet red. "How many times? He give it to you good? Did the neighbors complain?"

"They...they were banging on the walls," I admitted sheepishly.

She shook her head and placed her hands on her non existent hips. "You're disgusting? You think I wanna hear that filth? Go and type those, will ya?"

I didn't remind her that _she_ was the one who had brought the subject up in a very crude manner nor of the fact that she painstakingly read every single word of the smut that she was in a hurry for me to type up. I merely walked over to my desk, which also had several manuscripts waiting to be typed. If I wanted to do some research on the company computer I would have to do it on my lunchtime. Ivy Bunker seemed intent on making sure my fingers were spent typing up manuscripts all day. Sitting on my trusty chair, I thought about how I would much rather have used my fingers on John Wick's lovely cock.

Sigh.

Having the Alpha finally take my virginity had not made my thoughts any less sexual it seemed.

Infact, he had probably only made them _worse_.

* * *

While everyone else was eating around me, or had left to go and dine at one of the many fine, and admittedly not so fine, restaurants New York City had to offer, I was still sitting in front of my monitor. Only now my fingers, which had worked overtime in order to whittle down the stack of papers beside me, were typing up information in the Google search bar. I hadn't come up with much in my previous search for information on the High Table but now I had the keyword "Continental" to go along with it.

Which brought up the same 404 errors and Webpage Cannot Be Found messages, I had encountered before.

And just like the last time, the only items which remained were the blurbs from the missing sites which stated such things as "The Continental allows no business to take place on its grounds without fear of retribution from the management."

I'd done my share of Googling in my time so I cut and pasted these snippets, placing quotations around them, hoping it would reveal more of the missing text. In one pertinent case, it popped up an actual street address for the Continental which made my heart leap. I hastily grabbed a sheet of paper, one containing erotic trash I had already typed up, and scribbled it down.

When I typed in the address in Google Maps, however, it failed to show me the hotel. It failed, infact, to even show that that street corner existed at all.

"Shit," I said and proceeded to try other sites which might help as I absently began to doodle on the piece of paper where I had written the Continental's alleged location.

"You're lunch break is over, Ms. Smyth," I heard Ivy Bunker's voice inform me petulantly as I jumped about a foot out of my chair.

My eyes darted quickly to the time down in the right hand corner of the monitor and saw that I had essentially wasted my lunch hour plus fifteen minutes on virtually _nothing_.

I looked up to see Bunker's smug little smirk but watched as her eyes drifted to the piece of paper I had been drawing on during my mostly fruitless endeavor. In shock I looked to my artwork only to discover I had subconsciously drawn the tattoos that covered John's back. I had seen them several times during our days of mating and they had become burned into my mind as equally as the feeling of his erection seemed burned within the space hidden between my legs. I swallowed harshly as I looked back up to Ivy Bunker's face only to find that she was almost seemingly hypnotized in horror by the sheet with the words "Fortis Fortuna Adiuvat" written on it along with the cross, the wolf, the demon of fire and the praying hands. I had come to associate these images strongly with my lover and his struggle between light and darkness: between wanting to be a _good_ man but having sold his soul to a group of devils all sitting at a Table, from where they ruled the world.

For one instant, I believed I saw recognition in ErosPsyche's temporary Editor in Chief's french pea eyes. It was as strong of a flash as the lust which claimed me whenever I remembered John Wick's strong, wide back and the tattoos inked on it. Fear was there as well it seemed. When she turned to look down at me, I felt as if reality shifted and I once again saw past the already shaky safety net of the world I had once believed I had known into some darker one that had always existed beneath it.

" _She knows..._ " I thought to myself. " _All I have to do is ask her; she knows all about it_."

Then both the fear and the recognition were gone, faded like a tattoo soon becomes as the years pass by following its creation. "Stop your daydreaming, you typical Omega. And remember we pay you to be a typist not a fucking Rembrandt."

She proceeded to take the piece of paper adorning the poor duplication of the artwork on John Wick's back, and also the address of an Hotel which Google Maps pretended did not exist, and violently crumpled it. I watched silently as she threw it into the trash can beside my desk, where I fished it out shortly after she had retreated back to her office, barely managing to conceal the fact that she was trembling with every step that she made.


	12. Down a Hotel Corridor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and I struggle respectively with our time apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't think I'd get this finished today. It was a busy day. Put in a new air conditioner and ended up cutting myself on the back of it. Looked at the box and there was blood on it and a series of small, perfectly evenly spaced gashes on my middle finger and thumb. Still, found the time between that and several other things to write. Yay! Hope you enjoy the chapter more than you probably enjoyed this pointless and gross note :D <3

I knew it was foolish but I kept waiting for John to come back to me. My time of heat was over, his rutting was successfully satisfied and we were free to return to our normal lives until next month. Yet my eyes continually returned to the window and my ears kept listening for the sound of shoes clanging on the fire escape outside of it. I found myself repeatedly going to my bookshelf, trying to choose the book on it which I would place in the window when the time of my next heat rolled around again. Funny. I used to dread both it and my preheats; now I was actually looking forward to them knowing that it meant that I would see John Wick again and he would be making love to me once more.

I hadn't found the courage to visit the address where the New York Continental was supposed to be located; fear kept stopping me. My OCD was sounding an alarm that if I made _one_ wrong step I would lose the Alpha assassin from my life. It was the same anxiety it delighted in creating if I didn't repeat an action several times, threatening that some disaster would happen or it meant this or that if I didn't.

Only this time it was worse in a way.

Common sense was agreeing with it. It's hard when your logic actually sides with your mental disorder but your heart is pulling you in the other direction.

Constantly, I found myself warring inwardly if I should go to the address and just take a little peek in order to feel closer to John than I currently was. I had not bonded with him, probably never would, but it hardly mattered to the Omega in me, whom just wanted to be near the first man whom had claimed her. Or maybe it had nothing to do with being an Omega at all, I thought. The woman in me, everything that was a woman named Erin, wanted to be as close to the man that she had fallen in love with heart and soul as she could be.

I held back somehow, though.

It was strange knowing that a building I had probably constantly passed by without paying it any attention was now occupying my thoughts and was calling me to it. But I was trying my best to avoid even being two blocks away from the structure. Just incase temptation won and lost all which I had found.

Prying Ivy Bunker for more information was something I had decided all the way around was a _bad_ idea. I couldn't let her know of my connection to John Wick and already felt bad that she may suspect it now. I chose to let her sit behind Christopher's desk like some Pandora's box I was too wise to open. We viewed one another these days politely but from a distance, like we were afraid that the other was toxic in some way and staying in the same proximity could lead to both of our deaths.

So I remained these days, as I was now, staring out of my window hoping to see a man I knew was probably never coming, because, worst of all, he did not want to...

* * *

For days now, John Wick had been dying to see Erin and suffering the full knowledge of what it was like to have an itch that you could not properly scratch. He'd wake up in his bed at the Continental and wish that her full figured, plump form was lying next to him and he went to sleep with the very same wish. It was not a wholly _sexual_ desire he knew, although that played a part in it every now and then as well.

The Omega's companionship was what he missed the most in truth. Having so little friends that he felt he could still trust, not just in New York City but in the whole of the world, it was a horrible temptation not to go to the one that he had managed to find like the proverbial needle in the haystack. She was kind and gentle and he longed to go to her for comfort after having fallen effortlessly back into the harsh underworld where a day's work meant that he needed to wash the blood of several people from off of his horribly steady hands and then wipe it from his mind. The former came easy enough; the latter never did.

On one such night, after he had murdered a white slaver whom had fallen out of line with the Table's demand that he pay to them the requisite tithe, John Wick sat on the edge of his bed, holding his head in the singular anguish brought about by the act of killing another human being. The life of the pimp had not been difficult enough to handle; it was the killing of one of his bodyguard's that proved to be Wick's torment.

The young man had obviously been no more than eighteen years old. No doubt, recruited off of the street with a promise of comfort and easy fortune. But his employer had been a fool and failed to either understand, or merely took too lightly, the High Table's rule to murder all newcomers whom did not hand over their first payment on time and in full. Such a "No Tolerance" rule ensured that _everybody_ stayed in their control and that acts which undermined their power were few and far between.

Still, when the older man had pushed the kid in front of him and the boy had raised his gun, prepared to shoot the assassin whom had come for his boss, John had suffered one quick moment of guilt that had pierced through his already torn and weathered soul before he had pulled the trigger of his own gun and continued on with his mission. Only after every guilty party in the room was dead and proceeding with the act of growing cold, could John start to face his own guilt and try to deal with it.

Afterwards, he had returned to the Continental where killing was as commonplace as the towels changed each day in the bathroom of every suite and the Bible in the drawer of every nightstand which also included a complimentary gun hidden inside of it incase somebody broke the "No Business" rule. He could not explain to anybody in the building how by killing a man of eighteen, one whom had entered the underworld of his own free will and likely would have ended up in jail or drowning in a life of crime anyway made him feel so hopelessly damned.

Holding his head in his hands, John wanted someone whom still held some value in human life and he thought of Erin once again. The look on her face when he had first come to her covered in blood and how she had touched it with sadness as it had seeped into the fabric of his shirt. He could never tell her what he had done, the shame would never let him and the fear of what her reaction would be, but, at least, if he was in her company he would be certain that he was with somebody that would mourn for the dead man just as much as he was doing.

Picking up his suit's jacket, which was lying on the bed to his side, John Wick headed for the door with Dog only a few steps behind him. He rattled off a thousand different excuses on why it was alright to go back on his vow not to see Erin except during her heats at least for one night on his way out the door.

Then he soon saw one of his major reasons for keeping it standing right in front of him.

At the end of the corridor, right before the elevator, stood Leuce. Once more the female assassin for the Table was adorned all in white. This time she was adorning an expensive and obviously European dress suit. She was a pale nightmare and John knew from the way she stood blocking his way that her purpose there was to see him; she was glaring at him and waiting for his approach, her hands defiantly on her jutting hips. He wanted to turn around and head back to his room and avoid seeing the obviously vengeful woman; Dog seemed of a like mind also. However, to do so seemed cowardly to the Alpha and a clear giveaway that he had been in the process of doing something which he shouldn't be.

"Is it _true_?" Leuce snarled at him when he came to stand within an inch of her pristine suited body.

John did not reply but merely looked down at her with a neutral expression.

The Omega assassin gave a few sniffs and then jerked her head back in repulsion. "It is true! I can still smell the slut on you!" she exclaimed.

"Would you mind?" John Wick asked emotionlessly, trying to ignore the outrage he felt over hearing that particular word used in conjunction with the woman he had intended to see but was now being irrevocably prevented. Suddenly, however, that "No Business" rule on Continental grounds was looking very fragile.

"Yes, I _would_ mind," Leuce hissed. "In fact, the whole Table minds, John Wick. Were you about to go drown your sorrow in glass after glass at the Continental bar?"

Leuce laughed loudly and with glee. "Good luck with that. Abby's been told if she so much as spits in a glass and hands it to you she'll show up on your next hit list. See what your little stunt caused, John? Even those that like you will suffer from your own hands if they take it easy on you! Was getting your rocks off with a little piece of Omega cunt really worth it? There was just one right? That's all I smell on your sad pathetic dick. Was she as ugly as she smells?"

Dog started to growl at the woman as if somehow he knew that both the nice Omega whom had given him dog food and his master had been insulted.

Likewise, in anger, the Alpha's arm shot out instantly and his fingers wrapped around the woman's neck, lifting her off of the Continental's expensive runner. She tried to kick and hit either John Wick's stomach or scrotum but failed miserably. John felt the urge to squeeze his hand and crush her throat so she could no longer formulate another single offensivs word when suddenly a bell sounded and the elevator door opened, revealing Charon standing there. His eyes took in the sight contradictory to the well known rules of the establishment where he worked and calmly turned to the infamous Baba Yaga.

"I need not remind you of the past and the need to not repeat it, Mr. Wick?" the concierge asked casually as Leuce still struggled about two feet off of the ground.

John felt his fingers grow tighter instead of loosening.

Charon tilted his head in sympathy. "While I know that you _must_ have your reasons, I implore you to remember your new mate, sir, and I humbly recommend that you drop the matter."

Thinking of Erin and the sadness and confusion she would inevitably face if he were to not show up the next time she placed a book in her window, John Wick did as Charon suggested:

Wick promptly removed his hand from the woman's neck and Leuce, and her immaculately white ass, fell on to the floor.

"Charon," John Wick nodded towards the concierge before turning and heading back towards his room.

"YOU'RE LUCKY WE'RE BOTH HERE, JOHN, OR ELSE I'D KICK YOUR FUCKING BALLS SO FAR UP YOUR FUCKING THROAT YOU'D INHALE THEM UP YOUR FUCKING NOSTRILS THE NEXT TIME YOU TOOK A BREATH, JOHN WICK! I KNOW WHAT SHE SMELLS LIKE NOW! YOU COULDN'T WASH HER OFF OF YOU WELL ENOUGH! I'LL FIND HER AND..." Leuce screamed out enraged after him and the Alpha closed the door on her, as he returned to his lonely room.

He would not be seeing Erin as he planned. But, for now, at least, he could go to sleep knowing that she was safe and as far away from Leuce and his world as possible.

* * *

Staring out of my window, I knew that it was another night where John was not coming. I closed the window but remained standing, staring out of it and at the alley below. This was no balcony; We were not in Verona; I was no Juliet and John Wick was no Romeo. We were both too old for such teenage antics. Besides, I never had really liked old Romeo all that much anyway. I wanted my John Wick with his quiet ways and impossible to ignore strength and decency, despite the blood his world was wretchedly drenched in.

And I intended to see him.

Heading to bed, I promised myself that tomorrow I would go to the Continental and try to catch at least one glimpse of the man that I loved and was missing so painfully with all of my being.

"I mean, what could it hurt?" I so foolishly reasoned.


	13. Across the Street

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I visit the address where the Continental is supposedly located and...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think there is an alleyway even close to the Continental but please roll with me on this one...

It being my day off, a fact I was sure pleased Ivy Bunker just as equally much since she wouldn't have to avoid or suffer me for the whole workday, I walked down the busy streets trying to find the fabled New York Continental Hotel. I half expected it not to be there, to be honest. Nothing had been all that easy when trying to find out facts and catch glimpses of the secret world where John Wick existed and killed for the High Table. So when I came near to the address written on the sheet of paper held in my trembling hand, I was shocked to find it looming as large and real as life at the corner of a city block. It was beautiful, elegant and of an odd and triangular construct. I stood there with my mouth hanging open, my feet refusing to move and my eyes fixated on the striking piece of architecture, feeling probably a lot like Dorothy did when she first saw the Emerald City. Only _this_ was real and not the dreaming of a little girl from Kansas, whom had gotten knocked out. And I was also alone and without the Scarecrow, Tin Man or Cowardly Lion for company and support.

Infact I had no friends with me at all, a fact painfully reminded to me as people pressed in around me, pushing me forward, but mostly just plain pushing.

Closer to the building, I ducked into the alley of a building within hearing and seeing distance of the Hotel. It was a smarter move anyway, I reasoned, since I definitely wished to avoid John seeing me.

From my place in the alley, I watched as a large limosine pulled up at the curb and the first resident of the Continental emerged from its front doors. He was a small man, under six feet, impeccably dressed and with black hair that accentuated his clear, blue eyes. He had to have been in his sixties or seventies and he possessed a regale air about him. I marked him as an Englishman and was correct as I heard him speaking to the valet whom was holding the limo's door open for him.

I was too focused on the stranger, trying to guess what role he played in John's world, that I failed to turn my attention to the door of the Continental opening and its next guest exiting from its comfort. In fact, it was the man with the blue eyes whom noticed the person first and it was only after the older man called out the man's name that my throat clenched in terror.

"Jonathan!" the stranger shouted again and I darted my eyes quickly to see that the man was John Wick and he was facing right in my direction.

* * *

After his run in with Leuce, John Wick had been hoping to avoid another little lecture from Winston. Instead he seemed to be misfortune's favored fool for he had chosen to leave the Continental at the exact moment that the Hotel Manager had decided to as well.

Exhaling sharply, Wick turned around and faced his former friend, prepared for his second lecture in just a few days. "Winston," he said as if the word was poison or something equally as lethal.

"I received a complaint from Leuce this morning about your conduct last night. She intends to inform Administration today as well. While I am sure that you had your reasons, Jonathan, I must insist you try your best to control your impulses while you are under my roof."

Thinking about Leuce's confrontational words the previous night, especially her insults towards Erin, John Wick felt another wave of intense rage but tried his best to stifle it. He needed the relative protection that the Continental offered and could not risk offending Winston. Although with the man's guilt, it might take quite a lot to actually manage that specific feat.

"I will," was all he managed to say before he turned around and started to leave once more.

Winston was mumbling yet another apology, this one a tad more snide, but it fell on ears made even more deaf than usual by John Wick's attention being suddenly more centered on his nose and the familiar scent it had unexpectedly picked up.

"Erin?" he whispered and turned to look at the building across the street.

* * *

"I am still sorry for what happened between us, Jonathan," the man named Winston was apologizing. "Would it suit you better if I were to jump off of the Continental myself? Maybe you could shoot me from my own Hotel rooftop too, Jonathan? Would that be enough for you to forgo your childish pouting?"

I heard the words and understood I had been given the answer to the two men's broken relationship. But that wasn't my primary concern right then. What was, however, was the fact that John looked like he had smelled something which both surprised and interested him. Forcefully pressing myself closer to the brick wall I was already up against, I inched myself along it to the back of the alley. I watched with a heart so badly beating that I was amazed it didn't burst and kill me as John Wick started to cross the street and head in my direction.

* * *

Although he kept telling himself that his mind had just conjured Erin's familiar scent, John could not deny the way that his nostrils were blaring a full alert that the Omega was in the area. Having become intimately familiar with her body and its smell, he would have bet his dog that the woman was somewhere closeby. Leaving Winston behind and very confused, the Alpha headed towards the alleyway where the scent was the strongest.  
As he entered it, looking around and following his nose (Erin's scent being closest around the wall) John expected to see her, satisfying his sense of sight as much as his sense of smell. However, he could find no trace of her amongst a large overflowing dumpster, a few worn cardboard boxes, caved in and made soggy by the last rain, and a marmalade cat which stared at him in outrage for having trespassed on his turf. Taking one last deep breath, John Wick exited the alleyway telling himself that, despite the strong scent of his mate, he must have been hallucinating the Omega out of his want and need to see her.

Still a hallucination was better than nothing and the Alpha headed off to work with the phantom scent of Erin lingering within his nostrils, a dreaded meeting with the Administrator scheduled at the end of the day before him and Winston, staring at him as if he'd lost his mind, behind.

* * *

When I was sure that John had left, I climbed clumsily out of the dumpster. I had been hoping that the atrocious smell of weeks, if not months, of garbage would throw my lover off of my scent and I sent a prayer of gratitude up to God that my assumption had been correct. It had been easier getting into the dumb thing, though, than it was getting out and I struggled for a while before I managed it. When I was finally successful, and had crept down the alley, I was jolted to see Winston still standing in front of the Hotel, the limo apparently having driven away without him. From the deep look of sadness on his weathered face I could tell that his run in with John had soured him from whatever he had planned on doing.

I felt honestly sorry for the man then. It was an emotion that I couldn't help.

Maybe this compassion called to the man as much as my scent had called to John for Winston suddenly raised his eyes and we stared at one another from across the street. I could suddenly feel every single piece of litter which was on my overweight body: a sticky candy bar wrapper, some egg shells, a few pieces of toilet paper...

The man examined my sorry state and in his intelligence read me and what had called Wick away from their painful and mostly one sided conversation. I was worried that he would somehow manage to call John back and that I would be found out after all. Instead, however, all Winston did was bring a finger to his lips and indicate his desire to keep his silence and in return my secret. I offered him a smile with the same gratitude I had given to God and hurried off home to shower.

* * *

All throughout his meeting with the Administrator, John Wick could not help but think of Erin and try to reason away why he was sure he had smelled her in the alleyway. It had to have been his previous recollection of Leuce's insults about the Omega's odor on his dick which had done it, he tried to explain. Standing there remembering just how Erin had gotten her pleasant odor on his dick, however, was doing him no favors, though, as he was trying unsucessfully to keep his mind on listening to what the Administrator was nattering on about.

"Am I boring you, Mr. Wick?" the short, bespectacled man asked in annoyance as he noticed the mind of the High Table's favorite assassin drifting off once again.

"No," John Wick lied.

The Administrator sighed. "In any case, your performance has improved since you returned. The Table wishes me to inform you that, while they are not impressed with your insubordination, they are satisfied with the results."

"Can I assume their blessing?" Wick inquired.

The Administrator smirked sourly. "Never assume anything but...for the time being...yes."

The news was a relief for John whom felt as if he no longer needed to be quite so cautious. Not that he would drop his guard entirely knowing that the High Table was not associated even vaguely with the concept of honesty. The main problem now, however, would be avoiding Leuce and keeping her far away from Erin.

On his way out of the Administrator's office door, John Wick almost collided with the female assassin herself. Remembering Winston's warning, John knew exactly why Leuce was there. They did not speak to each other as she entered the office he had just left, the sole exchange of communication being the vindictively smug smile on her beautiful yet hard face.

Thinking of Erin's own pretty face, which was as kind as Leuce's was cruel, John Wick realized that the female assassin would be preoccupied with the Administrator for about thirty minutes.

Sixty if the little man was his usual hair splitting self.

"Come on," John Wick ordered Dog, whom had been waiting patiently outside in the office for him.

Not needing to be told twice, the dog followed his master speedily out of the Administration building.

* * *

I was just stepping out of the shower and the bathroom for what had to be the eighth time that day, the smell of trash still burned into each one of my largish nostrils, when I heard a rapping in my living room. Instinctively, I looked at the window and saw John Wick's face peeking in. I trod on still very wet feet to the window, opened it and pulled the man immediately inside, his dog jumping in closely behind him. My first thought was that Winston had told on me afterall but staring into John's eyes I saw no anger but only a certain kind of pleased happiness. His smile was bordering on being carefree, an unusual sight on the hitman. "Hey," he said. "Sorry to interupt."

I was grateful that that last shower had seemed to do the trick and I no longer smelt of refuse. A new big pink plush towel was wrapped around my body and I realized that I was still somewhat shy in the man's presence. Even though I had just stepped out of the same bathtub where he had taken me with passionate gusto, my heat had apparently taken away some of my boldness.

"Mind if I get changed?" I asked and he shook his head, his long dark hair bouncing slightly with the movement.

I came back about two minutes later, wearing my purple nightie, the one he had seen me in often before, to find him still standing in my living room and perusing my DVD collection. "Apocalypse Now," he stated staring at my copy, the one sitting beside 2001: A Space Odyssey. "I like that one. Helen hated it though. That scene with the buffalo. "

"I ummm...I kind of have a crush on Chef," I mumbled.

John Wick turned to look down at me by his side and I thought that I sensed Alphacentic jealousy coming off of him in a fierce wave.

"Frederic Forrest is a really great actor. I've seen most of his films," I added, deciding to test John's possessiveness a little bit more while being honest at the same time.

A bit of a scowl on stubble framed lips...a noticeable furrowing of the brow.

"This is the Redux version. It has Colleen Camp in it; she's my favorite actress. Has been since I was a kid," I stated veering the conversation into safer territory.

The assassin seemed to relax. "Odd choice for a little girl."

I smiled up at him happily. "No, not really...not for a fat little girl. I spent my childhood wanting to be like all of the sexy women I saw and Colleen was tops. She had a killer body and she could be silly or tough too. Like in Police Academy 2."

John Wick took that particular DVD off from the shelf too and then put it back quickly. His stomach then started to grumble and I was greeted with the sight of my similarly tough as nails Alpha looking sheepish.

"You haven't eaten?" I accused.

"No," he replied. "I came straight here when I knew it was safe."

Touched by his confession me, I grabbed on to his black sleeved arm, hugged it and kissed it too. "I'll order a pizza," I told him. "Then we can watch a film and eat together."

"Okay," he stated and I thought he leaned in closer next to me.

I let John choose the toppings and while we waited for the delivery man to show up, I poured Dog some of his own food. "He really needs a name," I commented in pity.

"How about you choose?" John invited while he sat on the couch.

"Really? You'd let someone else name him?"

"Yes. Anything."

I gave it some thought as I stared down at the canine with his head in my good salad bowl, gobbling up the chow. I guess, take out food was still on my mind because I declared, "Jalapeno Popper!"

John Wick looked at me incredulously. "Anything but that."

Still on the food train of thought, I suggested "Mozzy!" Short and sneakily done for Mozerella Popper.

"Or that," John Wick refused the suggestion also.

I sighed having the sneaking suspicion that John Wick would be highly selective about what his Dog was to be called, no matter what he claimed. Luckily the Pizza boy soon showed up and we started to watch Apocalypse Now and eat.

By the time all of the ads had finished and Willard was off to find General Kurtz, John had practically eaten half of the pizza already. Seeing that he looked tired after what I assumed was a long day, I offered him the opprtunity to rest his head in my lap and to lie down on the sofa at the same time. When he took me up on the offer, I felt my cheeks burning and I wondered why such a small act was making me blush. His head had already been buried in my unclothed crotch and his tongue had explored me eagerly and without shame; I shouldn't be so shy...but I was. To counter the feeling, I started to run my fingers through his greasy locks.

I couldn't be sure, maybe I was just making it up, but whenever Chef was on the screen I thought that I could sense the Alpha on my lap tensing. When Chef finally got the chance to have sex with his Playmate fantasy, played by my childhood heroine, and as they squawked like birds, I saw the chance to lighten John Wick up a little.

"Do _you_ secretly want to bark like a _dog_ when we _do_ it, John?" I asked, softly tilting his head to meet my eyes.

John laughed, a deep blunt sound but also a genuine one. Then to my delighted surprise, he started to bark and howl. I started to make my own canine noises too. It was light hearted and human despite its animalistic nature. Two people, a man and a woman, just having a little innocently naughty fun. We enjoyed this for a minute or two until, Dog jumped up on the couch and wanted in on the fun by howling too

Or maybe he just wanted to let us know that we weren't very good at it at all and to show us how it was _really_ done.

* * *

As the movie reached its conclusion, John Wick felt pain almost equal to the violence displayed on Erin's modest television. The Omega was covering her eyes so she wouldn't have to see the real life murder of the water buffallo or the fake one of Kurtz. As her face was hidden beneath her smooth, pale hands, he stared at her instead of at the screen. She couldn't see him, of course, and that was why he felt free and brave enough to do it. He could take down a roomful of ruthless killers but he found himself growing nervous to study a single woman's face without trembling. The Omega had given to him a gift she hadn't even probably known: a night where he did not have to be the Baba Yaga but could only be a man named John instead.

He had not experienced that since his life with Helen had reached it's own painful end. And that time felt so far away and distant now that it might as well have been a movie on someone else's shelf.

When the acts of death on screen were over he gently reached up and took Erin's soft hands away from her face. "It's over," he gently stated.

"It is?" she asked, gazing down at him.

John Wick nodded his head sadly, knowing that his night of repreive was almost over too.

* * *

When the credits started and eventually rolled away into darkness, I watched in melancholy sorrow as John Wick immediately sat up and headed for the window so he could leave and return to the Continental. It was a place I now knew what it looked like but I kept this information guiltily to myself. His movements were slow and laboured as if a heavy weight had returned to them.

"You can stay the night," I invited shyly, looking at him from over the back of the couch as he had done earlier when rejecting my names for his dog.

"No, I can't," he replied somberly and I knew then that our arrangement excluded sex outside of my heats.

  
In my sadness, I rose and placed the DVD back on its shelf.

"Hal...we'll name him Hal," I heard John's deep voice suddenly say.

I looked up, turned my head and met my departing lover's eyes.

"But if anybody asks it's not short for Jalapeno Popper. It's off of Hal 9000, okay?" John Wick said with a sweet, comforting smile

"Got it," I said in appreciation.

"Goodnight Erin," he said and then quickly added a "Thank you," to go along with those two words.

He was out the window before I could wish him the same and when I stuck my head out of the window and called it out to him anyway, I was afraid the noise made by his feet on the steel of the fire escape prevented the words from reaching him.

Closing the window, I held myself, wishing fiercely that my heat would come early once more so John Wick would _allow_ himself to make love to me again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The stuff about Colleen Camp and Frederic Forrest is 100% true as most aspects of myself are in these stories. I love them both and Colleen was my favorite actress when I was growing up. Still is. I love you, Colleen! 
> 
> And Frederic is one of my favorite actors of all time because he was able to be different in every role he played. A seriously underrated actor.
> 
> Keanu Reeves  
> Harold Ramis  
> Christopher Lloyd  
> Frederic Forrest
> 
> That's my top four.
> 
> And I love Chef. The way he wants his mangoes only to not want them later on after the tiger incident. And his compassion and mourning for the girl killed over a mistake regarding a puppy...
> 
> Except, while I find Chef's death heartbreaking, I can't blame Kurtz for it. Chef was going to kill Kurtz's people, the people Kurtz had come to love...It breaks my heart but it isn't black and white so I can forgive the General that one crime.


	14. Back of a Limousine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and I each have respective talks with Continental staff members.

"Damnit."

John Wick whispered this solitary word on his way back to the Continental and earned a glance upward in his direction from Hal, formerly Dog only a few minutes ago, and a subsequent snort. There was a great deal of self loathing in the man's voice along with an equal dose of frustration. The assassin for the High Table was once more suffering the same jumble of emotions that a visit with his chosen Omega, Erin, was commonly leaving him with these days. He felt at peace yet even more unsettled when he had first come to her. He was happy yet miserable; excited but also frightened. If he wasn't careful, John Wick knew he'd start conditioning himself into feeling this way whenever he thought of her: a hazardous mix of depression and exaltation.

He wondered if this was what addicts felt in regards to their poison.

But Erin wasn't a poison; she was only a woman, among many in New York City, trying to make ends meet and keep her head above water. That was one of the reasons he had chosen her, after all. Her commonality would never make the High Table detect her as the infamous and lethal Baba Yaga's mate. And, for her part, she had never even heard of the association for which he worked and killed. Keeping her safe from them was his primary concern, besides their satisfying each other's carnal needs, and that should have been what was causing him his sudden agitation: his desire to protect her.

Only it wasn't.

Not completely.

It had been so much easier, John knew when Marcus had been alive. His mentor was always full of advice, even if he rarely agreed with it, their philosophies beings so different from one another. Still it had been nice to have someone to talk to or whom could easily guess what he was feeling. The only other person left to talk to had been Winston. But that friendship had been sucessfully severed with a few shots fired from a gun and a very long fall. He briefly considered going to the Director at the Tarkovsky, where he had trained, but knew that it was a bad idea. The woman still bore the wounds like stigmata on her hands for having opposed the Table and offered him safe passage to Casablanca. Whenever she crossed his path these days, she wouldn't offer him so much as a single syllable or a quick glance.

He wanted, _needed_ , somebody whom would _see_ him.

Entering the Continental, John strode up to the desk where Charon waited as always.

"Glad to see you are back, Sir," he greeted with his familiar cordiality.

"Thanks," John stated.

Hal barked at the omission of his canine self.

"How could I forget...and you too," the concierge greeted the dog.

"Hal," Wick said without meaning to. "His name is Hal."

"Is it?" Charon said.

"Off of Jala..." the assassin started but caught himself in time. "Off of Hal 9000."

Charon raised an eyebrow but smiled nonetheless. "It is good that he has a name now. My grandfather used to claim that an animal is only an animal until it has been given a name. Then it can ascend closer to the rank of the Divine."

John Wick felt himself almost blink. Such a confession was odd coming from the concierge whom usually kept his past and his emotions to himself. It was an unchararcteristic move but one that offered John the opportunity he had been seeking.

Charon's business was to help and his area service, after all.

"Charon, is there anyway I could talk with you?"

The concierge's eyes opened wide. Hearing the word "talk" in conjunction with what John Wick wished to do was so unexpected that Charon did not easily hide his shock. He re-adorned it fast enough, however.

"My shift is done in forty-five minutes," Charon stated. "Are you free then, Sir, or will you have retired for the day?"

John frowned. He wanted to say that it was unlikely that the word "retired" could ever be used with him again but he refrained. "Forty-five minutes will be fine. I'll meet you in the bar" John Wick commented.

"I think it best if we meet in your room," Charon confided. "Leuce is back. She is always one to make a scene."

"Fine," John agreed, dreading seeing the woman so soon after being with Erin, and then turned and walked away from the counter, towards his room with his now named dog by his side.

* * *  
It was close to 2:00 am when John heard the knock at his door and answered it to find Charon standing there looking more relaxed than he had previously ever seen him. Apparently part of the man's formality was an adornment for his job. However, Charon seemed more than a little curious as John showed him to the couch in his suite and he in return sat in the chair opposite to it, leaning forward and wringing his hands.

Charon looked expectantly at him, while Hal jumped up beside the concierge and quickly fell asleep.

"You know that I've chosen a mate against the High Table's orders," John stated.

"Yes," Charon answered. "Word gets around."

John Wick frowned and looked at his hands. He hated that he was so nervous he couldn't stop moving them. In retaliation, he leaned back in the chair and clamped the fingers of each one down on the armrest instead.

"I was just with her," the hitman informed his guest.

"Good for you, Sir."

"It was innocent. It's not her heat. She ordered a pizza, we ate it together and watched a film: Apocalypse Now."

Wick didn't know what point telling Charon what they had watched served. Maybe he was hoping to make the man believe that the whole encounter hadn't been romantic due to the fact that they'd watched a war movie instead of The Notebook or the like.

"A very good film," Charon commented but looked as if he was waiting to learn why John Wick had found it so urgent to discuss with him the events of what sounded, for all the world, like a date night with an odd viewing choice.

"She asked me to stay the night," John stated, becoming more rigid than usual.

"And you declined because you did not want to?" Charon asked.

"No, I declined because I _wanted_ to," the Baba Yaga confessed.

Charon tilted his head, obviously still holding tightly to his confusion.

"She wasn't in heat," John Wick mumbled. "That was our arrangement. We would take care of each other's physical needs without the High Table ever learning who she was, Charon. That was it. It isn't safe to risk her like that just because I wanted to."

"I see," Charon stated, leaning forward with a knowing little smile playing around his lips. "Yet you went to see her at all...that wasn't placing her at some risk?"

John shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"May I suggest that the only person that you were truly keeping safe when you denied her offer was yourself?"

John Wick looked deeply into his thoughts and knew that the conceirege was half right.

"Good talk," Wick stated.

Charon smiled politely, knowing that their conversation had ended and had overall contained as many words with the stoic assassin as he had expected. "Always a pleasure. Good night Sir."

John Wick showed the man to the door and then methodically readied himself for bed.

Climbing under the Continental's expensive sheets, eventually, and wishing that they were Erin's bargain basement ones' instead, John felt the empty space beside him on the bed and both knew and accepted the other half of the answer to Charon's own offered theory.

By refusing to make love with Erin when she was not in heat, he had been attempting not only to save himself, but to keep safe someone else whom mattered far more to him than his own welfare and safety.

He had been trying to protect Helen too.

"Love you...always," he whispered to the memory of a dead woman and tried to fall asleep despite his gnawing guilt and loneliness.

* * *

About a week following John's unexpected visit, I was walking down the street on my way to pick up a six pack of honey dips from Sammy's Bakery, when a black and familiar limousine pulled up beside me. I had intended to keep walking when the window rolled down and an equally familiar face popped out to address me.

"I almost failed to recognize you without the egg shells and candy wrappers," the droll English accented voice of a man named Winston commented.

"I decided they didn't go with my top," I replied shyly, feeling that I was walking on eggshells instead of wearing them. Never knowing where John Wick was at any given moment, I feared him seeing me talking with his former friend and current enemy. At the same time, the urge to try to help John mend his relationship with the man was proving too tempting for me to simply run away in the opposite direction.

"Get in, I'll drive you to your destination," Winston stated as he threw open the door. "You have my solemn promise that you have nothing to fear."

My OCD and common sense was telling me to slam the door shut again while my heart said to climb inside and see if there was anything more I could learn about what had happened between the two men. Sighing, I climbed inside. Though I'd memorized the final part to Charles Perrault's Little Red Riding Hood years ago, being attacked in that particular way wasn't what I was worried about. The problem presented to my Alpha, however, was. But the danger was already presented after all: Winston knew I was connected to John Wick, whom had obviously been searching for me in the alleyway opposite to his hotel. He just didn't know _why_. It occurred to me that my meeting with the Englishman might not just be coincidental and that I was probably marked and had been since Winston had first seen me. I just prayed that he hadn't informed the High Table yet but was acting independently.

I sat down next to the Englishman and tried to hide my delight that I was inside such a beautiful vehicle. I wasn't sucessful and could see that he was completely amused by the fact that I was impressed by his limo.

"It's beautiful," I unessarily commented, for my expression had said it all.

"Thank you," the older man said. "My name is Winston...You are?"

"Er..." I started but changed it in time. "Ariel. Like the mermaid."

"Or Prospero's servant," Winston said with a nod.

"The Tempest," I replied with a smile. "But I am too large to be a sprite or a mermaid, I'm afraid." 

"You are familiar with the play?" Winston asked in shock.

"The first and only Shakespeare play I read for pleasure and not during High School. I read the Benedick and Beatrice scenes from Much Ado About Nothing when the film with Kenneth Bragnagh and Emma Thompson came out, though, when I was fourteen."

The Englishman smiled. "So Ariel...what, pray tell, is your relationship with our mutual friend Mr. Jonathan Wick?" he asked bluntly but with his seemingly usual smoothness.

"I'm his long lost sister," I lied. It was the best one I could think of without hesitating for too long conjuring up a more convincing lie and my deceit becoming obvious.

"I see," Winston said with a slow and measured nod. "That would be increasingly miraculous since Jonathan Wick is the last of his Ruska Roman tribe. One which was slaughtered before you were ever conceived, my dear."

"John's family was murdered?" I exclaimed in horror, my heart breaking for my lover whose past was still so much a mystery to me.

"You didn't know?" Winston asked and I shook my head vigourously. "Damnit!" he cursed himself and looked away.

Having caught a glimpse of stark self reproach and anger on the man's face, and the agony in his eyes, I knew that he was just as fearful of causing John Wick pain as I was. We both loved the assassin in our own ways and were trying to protect him. I placed my hand on the Continental Manager's knee comfortingly. "It's alright. I'll never tell him."

Winston turned to look at me. His blue eyes were warm with gratitide and I knew he had just realized also that I would never willingly hurt John Wick either. We smiled at each other in our connection of love for the assassin and I felt compelled to further strengthen whatever affection had blossomed between us that day outside of his hotel. "I'm John's Omega," I revealed. It was what could have been considered a foolish move, I understood fully. However, I was hoping that my instincts were right, despite my misfiring brain, that Winston had made a mistake once, been suffering over it ever since and would be less likely to commit one again.

Winston chortled as he studied me. "Well I hand it to Jonathan: the High Table would never suspect you as the mate of their favorite assassin."

My heart sank, feeling suddenly inferior: my weight, my perceived lack of beauty or grace. "Am I really that bad?" I asked.

"Oh no, no, no!" Winston reprimanded. "It's only that they recognize wealth, glamour and cruelty. You are as far from that last one as a rabbit is from a wolf. You should have seen the Omega that the Table had selected for him. Her name is Leuce and she, my dear, is a deadly nightmare dressed in white.

"Now little _Ariel_ , would you let this old but not too wise Prospero take you to your destination?"

He had obviously discerned that that wasn't my real name but had chosen to let it be the one that would exist between us.

I offered him another smile. "Yes. I was going to Sammy's Bakery for a six pack of donuts."

Winston started to shake his head and looked disapprovingly at me. "No. I'm afraid that that won't do, my dear. I can't let you do that."

I frowned, expecting to hear a lecture on my weight, clogged arteries and how a salad would be better for me in the long run. Reading my downcast expression, Winston looked at me, the right side of his lip curling. "Really McGuire's on 42nd is far better. My treat for Jonathan Wick's _chosen_ mate."

"No. You don't have to do that," I argued but he held up a black gloved hand, refusing to hear any further protests.

"Jonathan was like a son to me once," he said with more than a trace of sadness. "Being his Omega, you would have been like my daughter, if I had possessed enough foresight and courage. "

"What happened between you two?" I asked hesitantly. "Last week I heard you mention having shot John off of the Continental's roof?"

Winston sighed. "Every story has two sides. I shall tell you mine but please accept the gift of the donuts, no matter what you think of me after hearing it," he remarked.

Informing his driver, via intercom, of where to head to next, Winston began to tell me of how he had lost the man he had seen, not only as a friend, but as his child as well, and how he had won an internal wager that John Wick could survive almost anything but had lost the one that John would similarly be willing to let their frienship survive.

Or to forgive or forget.

The human talent John had not so long ago confessed to me that he desired to possess.

* * *

Two blocks outside of my apartment, my arms filled with a box of donuts, I exited from the limousine. It was far enough away that I hoped that John would not see me with Winston. My feelings were not as harsh towards the Continental Manager as my Alpha's were. In a way, he had saved John's life by his actions even if it had looked like he was trying to take it. From the sound of it, it seemed that my lover's death would have been inevitable at that time. Baba Yaga or no Baba Yaga, I doubted he could have taken on all of the Table and lived at that time. He was a man after all, one whom required rest and the time to heal and to think. It was better to take off the head of the serpent than waste one's strength on the many limbs of its body.

The Elder...

The one whom sat above the Table itself.

The person that John had sought for absolution and whom had requested that he kill Winston. Maybe if John had tried to kill _him_ instead than he would have stood a some kind of chance.

I turned to lean down and look at Winston through the limo's window. "And you honestly believed that John would be okay? That you were saving him?"

"Yes," Winston replied. "It may not seem like it...but that's what I truly believed."

I stood up straight and looked down at him. "I believe you," I said resolutely.

Winston smiled fondly up at me. "Then you are either an Angel or a Fool...or that rare area between; what we call an optimist."

I laughed bitterly. "Oh...if only you knew me. But I think there's hope for you and John to patch it up."

"And why do you believe that, my dear Ariel?" he inquired with furrowed brows.

"Because John told me he wishes he could forgive you. Wishing for something...well it means you have to want it to."

"And is that why my little Omega was hiding in a dumpster away from her searching Alpha?" Winston inquired kindly. "Because she desires to help her Prospero like any good Ariel would?"

I gazed down at him. "My real name is Erin and I want to help _John_ ," I confessed. "He's alone and won't let me too close to be there for him when I'm not in heat."

"Well...then he's a fool too," Winston commented wrly before dipping his head back inside the limo which drove away almost instantly, our spontaneous meeting coming to a similarly abrupt conclusion.

I was walking back to my apartment, trying to figure how I could soften John's heart towards his estranged father figure when I felt the first sharp agonizing pain and stumbled into a nearby wall. The box of donuts were almost squished against the bricks of the building but I saved them at the last minute, while I held my side and tried to regain my strength. Grateful nobody was around, I tried to rush home as quickly as I could before any Alphas on the street could sense what was happening with me. It was too soon but that did not always prevent them from trying.

Any plans of making John Wick into Winston's surrogate son again were going to have to wait.

My preheat would return soon, during which my primary concern and thought would be having John Wick buried deeply and wonderfully inside of me once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone reading this and wondering why it isn't like the synopsis at all yet, we're getting there, don't worry. That bit about the Elder foreshadows it. This was meant to be a one shot, actually, but I thought the romance wouldn't be earned or developed enough as one. There would be little dramatic intensity, or the proper amount of invested feelings, without a bit of history beforehand. That's what I'm doing now. But we are drawing ever closer to that synopsis. Still a few chapters off though. Bear with me. I've got it all planned out.
> 
> Thanks for reading by the way! You rock and it's very much appreciated! :D <3


	15. By the Window on a Private Plane to Prague

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is sent to Prague, against his will and without my knowing, while I enter my preheat.

John Wick sat on a private plane heading for Prague, staring vacantly out of the window, not knowing why he was there but at the same time knowing completely. This was to be his punishment for defying the Table by having found a mate of his own choosing and having treated Leuce so roughly in the sanctity of the Continental.

The Table was not comprised by idiots. Infact each one had received their seat at it from possessing intelligent and cunning natures. While they employed assassins whom were graced with agility and strength, the twelve prided themselves on being more cerebral in their virtues; they knew how to manipulate any given situation by working their minds and not their bodies. Even if they had no spark of wit, it would not have proven too difficult for them to mark the time of his four day disappearance and discern that this was the time when his chosen mate would go into heat. They had been waiting silently for their revenge, letting the days pass until they had sprung this unexpected little mission on him: A trip to Prague to take down a two bit syndicate there which had been an unimportant but growing source of annoyance to them. It was a trivial task really; one designed to take up his time and little else. But that was the intention: to keep him busy while Erin suffered her heat alone.

He had desired to tell her of it, knowing she would wonder where he was but a man appointed by the Table, another assassin named Vershell, had been selected to aid him.

Or more likely, to keep an eye on him while he was doing most of the work.

Vershell was skillful enough, having slinked along about an inch above the radar for most of his professional career. But he was expendable in the eyes of the High Table and had yet to make a name for himself in the underworld. What made the man stand out and coveted was his incredible eyesight, observational powers, photographic memory and highly focused mind. He was little more than a glorified checkman sent to report back to his bosses if John Wick gave so much as a hint to whom his Omega was. John knew he could not do anything in regards to Erin while the man was hovering over him. Not without risking Vershell seeing it, remembering it and then informing the Table, most likely with the incentive of a promotion or raise.

In order to protect Erin, John understood, he would have to stay for away from her, pray to a God, whom seemed to never hear him anyway, that her time came late this month and just finish his mission in Prague as quickly so he could then rush with the speed of Atalanta back to her side.

* * *  
In my bathtub, I kept waiting to hear the sound of John's key in the door. My preheat had been extremely painful and I was longing desperately for his company. Of course, I had yet to place the book in the window, I chastised myself, so how could the Alpha exactly know? Exept for whatever his own internal clock was telling him, John would be oblivious to the pain I was suffering. I wondered where he was in the City and what he was doing. Now I knew a little more about where he stayed each night, his broken friendship with Winston and even the heartbreaking fact that he had been made an orphan at too young of an age.

Still I wanted to learn so more like some greedy child on their Birthday whom desired slice of cake after slice of cake.

Another set of painful cramps seizing me, I waited until they were over until I could be in the proper set of mind to follow one notion to the next logical thought.

Wondering where John was, wishing that I wouldn't need a book placed inside of a window to tell him that I needed him, the possibility of a bond between us flashed across my mind. It would solve so many problems, and I was on the verge of promising myself to definitely bring it up the next time I saw him, when the thought of John's inevitable rejection stopped me. If he wasn't ready to stay the night without my being in heat it seemed improbable that he'd wish to go so far as to _bond_ with me. Bonds were intimate, the constant doorway for someone to enter your mind and to be aware of where you were and what you were doing at any given time. They were only for those couples whom honestly trusted each other. Did John Wick trust me enough to give me open acess to his mind? Should he after I had formed a lax friendship with the man he considered to be his Judas? Even if it was only to help?

Or would that not be the problem at all? Would his hesitancy center around his beloved wife more than anything else?

Thinking of the assassin and how much I loved him, I would have bet my life that it was the latter which would keep us unbonded. After all, if John were to die, having given him my heart and body already, I knew that I would _never_ take another mate after his death. I had never been the type of woman whom desired a long string of lovers. That was why I had waited for years for just the right mate. I desired quality over quantity and John Wick was the man whom would shame all other men in my eyes forever after. None could hope to replace him inside my soul so there was no point in trying.

Helen had been that for John. If he could have waited out his ruttings alone some place without the Table constantly attempting to lure him in his vulnerability with the Omegas they had specifically deigned as fitting to procure a future assassin with John Wick's innate talent and skills, he would, no doubt, have remained solitary. He had come to me only because he needed to not because he wanted to. There was a big difference and I needed to never forget that. I was nothing more than a necessity, a convenience and a means to escape a difficult situation. I held no hope of ever living up to Helen Wick's memory or the love he still felt deeply for her. It had only been the uncomfortable situation that the High Table had placed him in that had forced our alliance upon him. Without it, I would have only been the woman whom had let him share her umbrella one dreary rainy day. 

* * *

The High Table had placed him in a very uncomfortable situation, John Wick realized.  
Murdering a syndicate of European gangsters while you were rutting was no mean feat, John Wick had realized. Not only were you trying to take out a group of ruthless killers while trying to stay alive, but you also had to deal with the embarrassing fact of doing it all with an erection. If anything, it provided a distraction when your enemy looked down at the front seat your trousers and discovered that you were horny. The first look that passed across their face was either repulsion or interest depending on what sexual orientation they were. No doubt they were left wondering if the hard on was due in some way to them. But in that resulting moment of shock, John Wick was given the time to make it their final living thought. For soon after, the Alpha would either shoot them, grab and break their neck or some other act of murder so he didn't have to bother telling them it was only because his body instinctively knew that there was a large, Omega woman lying in her bathtub in America, on the verge of entering her heat and probably wondering where the Hell he was. There was no way for him to tell her he was in Prague killing people as the High Table had instructed. Especially not with Vershell always over his shoulder, making sure he was in the range of his squinty, observant blue eyes.

As John was grabbing one mobster, roughly the size of a Clydesdale, by his tie, pushing the barrel of his gun into his shocked and opened mouth and firing it, he wondered if he should bond with the Omega when he returned to New York. They could easily communicate with each other then without needing to worry about being overheard or their messages being intercepted by the Table.

Instantly falling to the floor and sweeping the legs out from under a stocky approaching thug, John realized that the idea made him far more terrified than the startled man he had knocked to the ground beside him. Aiming the gun at the syndicate man's back and firing, the Baba Yaga knew that bonding with Erin was too close to being like a marriage. Helen had been the only woman he had ever bonded with, or took vows with, and if he made that leap with his new mate he feared that it meant the erasure of his bond with the woman he had loved more than his own life.

 _"You're being silly, John,"_ he could almost hear Helen's calm and reasonable voice saying inside of his mind, as if their bond overpowered even the veil between life and death.

"Yeah, I am," Wick said, making the female member of the Prague mob, whom was rushing him with a knife, suddenly stop.

"What?" she stopped to ask, the blade poised to strike.

"I'm not talking to you," John Wick replied.

He watched as her eyes lowered to the blunt and pointing weapon in his black trousers and the look of lust which crossed her dark, appreciative eyes.

"That's not for you either," the Baba Yaga stated and shot her in the middle of her forehead.

* * *

Feeling very close now, I climbed out of the tub and made my way to the book shelf and found the book I had chosen in advance: "The Secret Garden."

That's what John Wick was to me.

In the middle of New York City, amongst all of the buildings and people, admidst all of the rudeness, violence and walls they had built around themselves, ones constructed of cold spirit and not of steel or brick, I had found in another human being a bit of human kindness, softness and warmth. It didn't matter that John felt himself unworthy of affection and tenderness in return for the job the High Table had forced upon him. Or that he was uncared for and unkempt just like Archibald Craven's wife's forgotten sanctuary. I loved him and hoped that one day I might bring him back to life just as Mary Lennox had been able to do.

The book, being a paperback, gave me some trouble making it stand up sucessfully. It kept falling over which I wasn't exactly in the mood for, being in intense pain. I had to place a flower pot behind it, which was fitting, except for the fact that it was full of fake flowers from the local flower shop. This only reminded me that I did not possess Mary's green thumb. Infact, when I had been a small girl, trying to emulate her, my seeds had hardly ever made it past the tiny green shoot phase. My other ones, which had been full grown, had not fared much better.

Staring out the window, anxiously looking for any sign of my Alpha, I hoped and prayed that John Wick would fare better under my attention and care than flowers ever had.

* * *

The room inside the building in Prague was completely littered with the bodies of various dead men and women. It looked almost like the most in poor taste design by an avant-garde interior decorator ever. Blood pooled around in the spaces between the dead and the strong scent of the odor wafted in the air above them. The perpatrator of the violence looked at what he had wrought with impatient indifference, more concerned at the moment with his painful rutting and the fact that there was a woman waiting for him in her own agony.

John Wick turned to Vershell.

"Is that it?" he asked his shadow, whom had spent the last few minutes of the slaughter hiding behind a stack of cardboard boxes, presumably filled with drugs or something else decidedly illegal, and had finally made his way to Wick's side once the last bullet had been fired and was now prepared to access the damage.

Vershell looked around at the corpses littering the floor and seemed to match them to the ones contained inside of his photographic memory, performing a head count inside of his mind. "Yeah," he finally stated, having accounted for everyone inside of the offending Prague syndicate whom had been inside of the Table's files. "That's it."

"No," John Wick corrected. "I think you forgot one."

"Who?" Vershell asked.

"You," John Wick answered the question as he introduced the center of the other assassin's face to his knuckles first and his knee immediately afterwards.

The Alpha did not wait to hear the man hit the floor. He was halfway to the door, using several bodies along the way as if they were stepping stones. With any luck, John thought, he would be halfway back to America, after comandeering a jet or stowing away on one, before Vershell regained conciousness and reported his failure on keeping tabs on the Baba Yaga back to the High Table, receiving the appropriate punishment instead of the promotion he had so badly desired.


	16. On the Kitchen Floor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Wick tries to make his way back to me while I suffer my heat alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if this isn't great. I've been working on it and have two Father's Day specials planned for tomorrow. I'm still working on one of those latter ones and my eyes are getting sore and squinty from staring at various screens all day, at this point. Plus my OCD has been getting to me today and I feel like a general failure because I can't make it stop.
> 
> I just really wish I was really on the kitchen floor with John Wick instead...
> 
> But I take what I can get. :/

John Wick was not coming.

I was sure of this fact, as I writhed naked and alone on my bed. My heat had finally arrived but there was no sign of my Alpha to help me in the satisfying of it. I lay on my back, my legs spread as I furiously played with myself. For years I had struggled through my heats on my own and without sexual satisfaction. Then one day I had blessedly encountered John and he had promised to take care of the painful need my body had suffered without answer for those long and lonely years. And oh how he had! Such physical contentment and pleasure, I had never known. My mind still eagerly remembered our last four days of constant lovemaking.

The problem was that my _body_ remembered it now as well. It could remember the glorious cock which had filled it, entering it so far as to hit the womb with each assurred and forceful thrust. And the knot at the end making its escape impossible until its eventual offering of cum. It remembered a bearded face pressed into the overly large chest and the lips holding the nipple he was slowly sucking on, sending out a sensation all throughout my soft, pale and bountious person. But now there was no swollen member to fill that void between the legs nor mouth to attend to those two anxious bits of peaked, pink flesh. It was as if my heated body had become addicted to John Wick's own and I was now suffering agonizing withdrawal.

Guilt accompanied this feeling, however, for I was suddenly afraid I was selfish and primarily concerned with only my needs and not my mate's. Was this worry true or was it just another lie my obsessive compulsive mind seized on to torment me with.  
For OCD was an addiction in its own right. The mind became addicted to fear and sought to constantly cause it.

My body's need, though, often overpowered the mental one. I found myself pleasuring myself just so I wouldn't go crazy. One hand was used to manipulate my chest while the other dipped into my labia to tease my clit. This was helping somewhat but a gnawing feeling of dissatisfaction remained constantly in the background. Perhaps it was because I refused to actually place anything into my opening, I thought in frustration. Something seemed like sacrilege in the act to me. I was old fashioned and terribly loyal. My soul wanted that tunnel reserved specifically for John's wide length and nothing else.

"I want _his_ cock," I repeated to nobody else but myself and maybe God. "I want his _cock_. I _need_ his cock."

Instantly the Serenity Prayer flashed through my mind and I started to recite a modified version of it as I lifted my legs and rubbed the swelling nub a little faster.

"God, grant me the serenity to accept that John Wick's dick is not inside of me ,courage to change that great misfortune if I can, and wisdom to know that it was my own dumb fault for letting it inside of me in the first place. Thank you."

Still kicking as words just turned into cries and moans, I climaxed. I brought my hand out; it was covered in slick and I rubbed it onto my tummy and then both of my nipples. Although not completely satisfied still, my orgasm had bought me a momentary reprieve from my desperate physical need. I lay panting, my body covered in sweat and my legs bent and forming triangles at the lower half of the bed.

"John where _are_ you?" I asked, wishing that I could say it inside of my mind and that he would actually hear me.

* * *

John Wick was back in America on a jet plane he had stolen and was personally flying himself. The real pilot had been pushed out of the plane sometime shortly after lift off. Wick had done this also personally, choosing just the right area so the stranger would land safely in a body of water close enough to shore and rescue. Even though he was close to Kennedy Airport and landing he was incredibly pissed off that he hadn't managed to get to New York even quicker. His erection was angry at him as well, sticking up like some extra gearshift on the jet. Sometimes John found himself playing with it in an attempt to appease it and get it to calm down. But it was no longer satisfied with his hand alone, knowing instinctively that there was a plus sized Omega with her wonderful moist and warm vagina waiting for him.

"I _want_ her pussy," John Wick mumbled angrily to himself, finding the words coming off as vaguely ironic since he was a dog person after all. "I _need_ her _pussy_."

Seeing the Kennedy Airport landing strip, the Alpha grunted in approval. What was even better was that there were no other planes waiting to land nearby. The airport traffic controller was hurling insults at him but Wick had an easier time turning the radio off than his dick. He started the landing procedure, throwing up a thanks to Marcus, wherever he was, whom had taught him how to fly a plane in the first place one day when they had done a hit on a pilot. He could still remember his mentor telling him valuable advicd afterwards, entering the cockpit and tossing the dead man out of the seat, which he then slid into himself.

"John, John, John...It's always a good idea to kill a pilot when you're safely on the ground NOT when you're several miles up in the frickin sky."

* * *

"JOHN! JOHN! JOHN!" I cried out as I climaxed again. My hand was getting tired. Worse yet, right at the moment of release, the horrifying certainty had come to me that something had happened to my Alpha mate and that was why I was alone and resorting to masturbation.

Believing, in the beginning, that he had simply gotten buried in work, suspecting that maybe the High Table was trying to prevent him from coming to me as a passive form of revenge, my mind had turned to more distressing scenarios. Now I was envisioning John Wick lying dead somewhere and consequently unable to get to me. My own selfish desire for him to come and tend to my needs was replaced by the more alturistic one to make sure that he was okay. I went to my nightstand and grabbed my cellphone, getting it covered in slick in the process. Coming to my senses, I put it down immediately. I didn't have a single number to contact in order to inquire about the fate of an underworld hitman. Nor would it be safe if I did. The Table could, no doubt, easily trace it back to me and then I truly would get John into trouble.

"Winston," I mumbled to myself as I knelt on the bed.

Quickly I jumped out of bed intending to go to the Continental and ask the motel manager in person if anything had happened to my mate. It wasn't a wise idea for an Omega to leave the safety of their house while they were in the middle of a heat but my brain was far from being wise, at the moment. It was a fact proven to me as I made it to the door and soon realized that I was completely naked.

"Shit," I grumbled, turning back.

On my way to the bedroom, though, another wave of immobilizing lust seized me. I fell onto the floor and began to kick my legs and writhe again. My frantic and urgent motions moved my plump frame all the way into the kitchen where the tiles were cooler than the rugs in the other rooms.

"Ahhh....unn...unn..." I whimpered, sounding like a small wounded animal. My right hand dipped in between my folds again as my left fingers tugged on my tit. My lips lowered to the huge white hills of my breasts and started to kiss, bite and lick them as I imagined they were John Wick's lips and not my own. Another less than successful fantasy for I didn't have a beard.

* * *

John ran all the way to Erin's apartment. Stealing a taxi was too dangerous. Most of the yellow cars were equipped with technology for trackimg these days even the ones not under the High Table's control. It was a far cry from his youth when the letters GPS were probably just the initials of somebody that worked in Administration. Luckily, John knew, he was in better than average shape for a man his age and the events from when he had been made Excommunicado had given him practice for maneuvering down the New York City streets. As he stepped onto the street where Erin lived, he threw a look to her window and saw a copy of Frances Hodgson Burnett's The Secret Garden waiting for him to see. How long it had been there, he had no way of knowing and felt guilty as Hell over the fact. The Alpha entered the apartment building, taking two steps at a time (not an easy feat with a massive and complaining hard-on) on his way to her doorstop, his hand reaching into the hidden pocket inside of his tie, where he kept the key she had given him. At the door, which felt more akin to the Pearly Gates then the entrance to a cheap apartment in New York City, John threw it open and rushed inside, shutting and locking it securely behind him.

He heard a woman crying and whimpering closeby and followed his hearing to find Erin's large and naked body on the kitchen floor. She had fallen into the fetal position and was masturbating violently while her slick was pooling under her. John watched as her fingers pulled on an erect nipple and as her mouth was wrapping around a chunk of her other breast, sucking on it. The hand inside of her was moving manically, rubbing her clit with impressive zeal.

John Wick wished that he could have claimed that his next action was in part because he wanted to save the Omega from the obvious sexual pain her heat was causing her...

But he couldn't.

Right then, seeing the women pleasing herself on the kitchen floor in front of him, John's own arousal reached a pitch so powerful he was shocked he was able to keep his knot at bay. He also realized that he was madly, insanely _jealous_. The Alpha roared and got to his knees on the kitchen floor, practically ripping his fly off as he pulled out his cock which was aggressively admiring the view. Grabbing Erin by her large rounded ass, he roughly propped her backend up and spread her chunky legs apart. He saw everything on full display infront of him and gave the crack and its contents quick lick.

"John?" she asked, out of breath and turning to look at him as her right facial cheek was lying flat against the kitchen's tiled floor.

He didn't reply but only shoved his leaking organ into her widely opened and slicked vaginal entrance, choosing to announce his arrival by thrusting his erection into her instead of giving her his usual, "Hey." Both Alpha and Omega cried out as their bodies became one. John allowed himself to revel in the glorious feeling of himself knotting while the woman's cunt enveloped him, the warmness of her wet walls holding his cock closely as if it was something precious. Watching her with her backside raised, while her topside was pressed into the kitchen floor, her breasts swelling to either side of her and looking as delicious as her twin hill like ass, while he vigourously thrusted into her, it was clear that to Erin it was. Her eyes were shut in her bliss, her lips constantly forming his name, as he gratefully and full bodily fulfilled her need.

* * *

When I had first heard the door opening, I hadn't been sure if I was imagining it or not. With an OCD fried mind sometimes things played tricks and hope could fool you into believing something which simply wasn't real. I'd been picturing John Wick walking in through my door and coming to help save me from the carnal anguish my heat was making me suffer. Even when he knelt behind me I wasn't sure that the appearance of my beautiful shaggy Alpha wasn't just an illusion. The illusion felt more real when I felt his hands gripping my bottom and propping me up so my ass, perineum and vagina were all directly aimed at him. And even more genuine when his tongue traced my crevice. But it was only when he shoved that hot, swollen and incredibly well lubricated piece of his flesh inside of me that I knew John Wick was really there and making love to me. My cunt wrapped around that same glorious penis, clenching it possessively as the assassin began to pound into me, his knot ensuring we would be joined until his coming. I realized then as the dissatisfaction dissappeared and brought with it ecstasasy and fulfillment in its wake that I had no reason to feel badly. John Wick had his own needs which I was taking care of for him as well. My OCD had just been cruelly lying to me again and making me blind to the true source of my dissatisfaction while I had been left to answer my own need: There was nobody else to please but myself and because of this the act would always feel hollow to me. Now listening to John's grunts and sounds of pleasure, feeling my arousal blossom to an overpowering degree as I listened to those sexual noises knowing I was delighting him too, any fear disappeared in the joy I felt of satisfying the man I loved's own painful need. We formed a perfect union with our arrangement, both giving and taking, some other action being born in between both of those acts, one where joy was found in doing both.

When John finally came, followed by the third orgasm he had given to me on the kitchen floor, that same floor was wet underneath us from various body fluids. Perhaps the most important of which were my tears. I moved my satisfied body on the slippery tiles over to my Alpha and fell into John's embrace as we sat together in the kitchen.

"I was afraid you weren't coming," I whispered into his chest.

"Really? I didn't know I was in there for that long," John Wick naughtily joked and kissed the top of my head.


	17. Underneath Her Inviting Body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Wick and I share another heat and he teaches me to embrace my passion. Afterwards I make a confession to the Alpha which I worry will change things between he and I forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well a week has passed since the last chapter and my OCD is still taking a toll on me. I just wanted to say something. If you know someone that has OCD when they are having trouble just be there for them. You don't have to fix them that seems pretty impossible. But know that we don't *want* to be broken. Don't try to bully us, use guilt or use yourself as an example of how much better you are at succeeding over your impulses, triggers etc...It really doesn't help. For someone like me, it only makes things worse because we already feel like failures who just aren't as good as other people who are or are not facing those same problems.
> 
> Just love the person. 
> 
> Listen. 
> 
> Be kind.
> 
> And be there.

The kitchen was forsaken as we moved back into the bedroom, John Wick was holding me from behind while we moved as one towards our destination: the bed.

"Aren't you going to ask me where I've been?" John asked, nuzzling his bearded chin against the side of my head as we crossed the bedroom's threshold.

"Work?" I hazarded a safe guess and craning my neck so I could look up into his face.

"How'd you know?"

"I just let you screw me in the kitchen in a suit which was covered in blood," I commented, grasping and cuddling the strong arms, which were wrapped around my naked middle, closer to me.

"Oh," John Wick said.

"Let's get you out of it," I remarked as I reluctantly stepped out from the circle of his embrace after we came to stand by my bed.

John was watching me remove his tie in this sweet bashfully excited way that made me smile in return. "Any guess _where_ they sent me?"

I wanted to tell him that wherever the Hell it had been was _too_ far away but he seemed so happy to tell me that I just went ahead and played along. "Ummm...Tokyo?" I guessed, as I pulled his arm out of the sleeve of his jacket and moved on to the next.

"Prague," John Wick answered as I tossed the jacket to the floor and started on his shirt buttons.

"Was it nice?" I asked.

"No," he replied, unbuckling his belt to help speed things along. "I spent the whole time rutting and thinking of you."

I giggled. "I'm flattered," I commented. "That must have been pretty awkward though," I added, removing John Wick from his shirt at the same time he dropped his pants to the floor around his socked feet.

"Yeah, it was," my Alpha said pulling down his boxers and showing off the erection which had caused him so much trouble and embarrassment.

I started to pull on it, knowing it had missed me so badly now, the precum coating my palm as if it was saliva the cock was spitting out in its attempt to kiss me. It felt just plain wonderful and my other hand joined in, wanting a kiss for itself as well.

"I stole...a jet...to get back to y-you," he stated, melting from my touch and obviously very grateful that he had.

I started to cry then. The hours of my painful heat alone faded as I pictured my big strong man actually comandeering a jet plane just in to speed across half a world in order to get to me. It was only for the promise of my safe and wet hole, which I represented to him, I knew, but I was still incredibly moved; the romantic dreams I had fostered helplessly since childhood had been touched even if just for one moment. My hand still working his cock, while the other went to play with his balls, I placed my head against John Wick's chest and kissed it gently around where his heart would be.

"On your back and on the bed, John Wick," I whispered softly.

He left the maneuverings of my hands and fingers about as hesitantly as I had left the safety of his arms. To ease his pain, as he was climbing into bed, I quickly licked the length of the crack between his buttocks and let my sneaky little hand curl around to the front to give his member another lusty pull. He looked over his shoulder at me, grunted in approval and then flopped down on the bed, his cock, in contrast, standing fully erect. I went to the end of the bed and looked down the length of his unclothed body. It was a beautiful sight to see his manhood on full display: the hill of his balls, the wonderous structure of his impressively sized phallus. However, I wanted immediate access to that same penis, which was leaking out fluid down its shaft and to the area surrounding it, and his legs were two closely together to allow my chubby body the proper access.

"Spread 'em, John Wick!" I joked as I squinted one eye, extended my arm and held up my thumb and pointing finger to pretend that I was holding up a gun.

"The charge?" John asked, playing along himself now.

"Hijacking a jet for one thing," I said. "Offing a bunch of Prague mobsters for another...But mostly for keeping that wonderful cock from your chosen Omega."

"Your evidence?"

I looked at the blood stained clothes on the floor by the bed. "I think it's surrounding us, Mr Wick," I stated wryly, nodding my head towards the suit. "Not to mention the woefully empty place between my legs."

"Are you taking me in?" the Alpha asked as he spread his legs and I crawled on all fours, moving my large and naked body between the assassin's limbs and towards his plentiful package.

"Oh, I'm taking you in all right," I stated, getting to my knees right before his crotch and placing my hands on my hips. I gazed down at his erection with anticipatory hunger. "The only question is the one you asked me earlier: _where_?"

Seeing the soft skin on John Wick's inner thigh, I lowered my face to minister to it several kisses. John grunted again and I started to let my tongue emerge and lick upwards to the place where John's leg met his groin. Once there and knowing my Alpha was well pleased, my tongue went to his ball sac and began to explore it slowly while my hand gently carressed and alternately pulled on the scrotum.

"Unnh," John sounded. He liked the feeling of my tongue rolling iself around in circles on his testicles, I gathered, so I brazenly continued doing it.

He liked it just as equally much, however, when I started to suck slowy on his left testicle and my hand started to stroke his very grateful erection. There was so much precum gushing out now and my lips lovingly worked the part of his anatomy which contained the fluid it was heralding. Wanting the taste of it, finally desiring to taste John Wick after weeks of withholding, my naughtly little tongue traced up the length of the frenulum. Something caught my attention on the way there, though. My tongue rested on that lovely and presumably sleeping knot which was my accomplice in keeping my mate right where I both needed and wanted him during our lovemaking and I stopped to pay it my respects.

* * *

As Erin moved her mouth adoringly on his balls, John felt himself wanting to kill all the men and women lying dead already in an underworld warehouse in Prague. Sure he had done it once in the span of twelve hours but they all needed to die again for keeping him from his Omega's touch. The High Table also needed to suffer a similar fate. The feel of her tongue on the tender smooth flesh of his scrotum was sending a surge of pure ecstacy throughout his furiously responding body. His dick was shooting out precum like it was imitating a busted fawcett, one you couldn't turn off once it had been turned on; and he was most _definitely_ turned on. She was sucking on one ball and playing with his dick, and Wick found himself fighting two urges, one to beg for mercy and one to knot before she had even allowed him entrance into her slicked vagina. Still, John Wick did his best to refrain from caving in to either impulses. He was the Alpha, an assassin...the _dreaded_ Baba Yaga.

He did not plead nor did he find himself knotting before he was ready.

That was why it was doubly embarrassing for him when the plump little Omega's mouth found his knot before it had fully emerged and started to tease it. Her tongue started to swirl around the small bit of raised flesh on his cock and he couldn't help but let out a desperate gasp. When she started to suckle it, her mouth paying it the same attention it had done to his full set of balls, the subsequent wave of arousal was almost overpowering, a spurt of precum came out in high praise of what the woman was doing but his mouth was calling out a different order due to the fact that he was close to losing his self control.

"no...No...NO!" John Wick shouted feeling himself on the verge of knotting before he had been properly enveloped. He was squirming beneath her, his legs flailing in his carnel bliss "I...I...I..."

Erin quickly moved, sensing the source of his distress, probably feeling it too against the sensitive membrane called her lips. She spread her own thighs, positioning herself over the twitching, spilling tower known as his penis. Lowering herself, the Omega impaled her warm, pale, inviting, and soft body on the phallus which was greedy and rock hard beneath her.

* * *

When I started to kiss, lick and suck John's knot, the Alpha lost it entirely. My lover started to whimper as my tongue cradled the bulb and I felt his legs beginning to kick when I foolishly started to perform the last two actions at once on it.

"no...No...NO!" he screamed, an odd joining of anger, pain and delirious pleasure.

As I felt the knot pulsating against my lips, threatening to pop out, I knew that I had gone too far: my Alpha was preparing to knot and was fitfully angry that it was not in my tight, embracing cunt. Seeing the cock, giving off some spasms and spewing out fresh spurts of precum, I quickly crawled towards the weeping member. I spread my legs far and then let my body fall on John's mad organ, feeling it entering my awaiting vagina. A jolt of my own pleasure and pain seized me as the cock spread me wide. Familiar as it was with the beast from our last enthusiastic and enlightening mating, my tunnel had forgotten how truly wide and long the only man it had ever known was. The impact struck the place inside that longed for John Wick's member's reacquaintance and it sent out a blissful and heated sensation of pleasure throughout me. My nipples tingled and hardened while I likewise watched John throwing his head back from the joy my body was giving him by the act of enveloping his own hardness.

"John!" I cried, starting to grind my bottom against his groin. "I can...I can feel you so...so far up and all around. Hanh...ahhh..."

I began to frantically move my thighs up and down, making my body slide along his shaft. Slick was aiding the act and that special area up inside was being hit along with my clit. The feeling of his cock was glorious and his knot had come out just in time. I began to clutch at my breasts, manipulating the nipples and increasing the pleasure. The Alpha finally raised his head and looked at me through half lidded eyes, dealing with his own satisfied arousal. He seemed to enjoy the sight of my hands playing with my breasts while I rode him, making him thrust upwards occassionally, our conjoined bodies pleasing one another in their respective and designed fashions. John's hands forcefully came to my chest, replacing my own hands; cupping a breast each, he squeezed them in such a way that marvelously teased the nipples at the same time, making them emerge fully and rub against his palms. I looked down to see the top of my breasts overflowing from each of John Wick's hands, like he was a makeshift brassiere and he cried out in pleasure at the sight, teasing the nipples some more.

"I...unh...I...unh...," I started but couldn't finish. My clit was swelling, my nips were begging for more and my walls were furiously clenching around the huge cock which was filling them. My body was still moving with a mind all its own, up and down, trying to bring the penis it was surrounding to climax.

"John...John..."

I was crying, weeping because my body was nothing but nerves and pleasure. I was enjoying the pleasure but felt in danger of being overpowered by it. My hands found their way to John's own nipples and began to toy with them trying to center on something to help me not explode in my delight. It was all too much in a way: having suffered my heat for roughly the first thirty six hours alone, fearing that John Wick was dead somewhere and that I would never see him again. Then having him suddenly back inside of me, taking care of the need that had tormented me in his absence. It was pain and then pleasure, sadness and then joy, damnation and salvation all merging at once and I feared that neither my body nor my soul would be strong enough to take it. I would be lost somewhere under the waves of experiences, all of such contrasting degrees.

John seemed to read what was happening to me, the joy of our sexual connection, but knowing I was about to drown under it too.

"It's okay," he said, cupping the side of my face, his other hand still stimulating my breast and nipple.

I thought that he was about to take it easy on me, to save me by bringing me to a less forceful climax, but I was wrong. He started to rise his buttocks from off of the mattress in order to thrust into me harder and I was completely undone.

* * *

Watching Erin almost fall apart while they were making love was almost fitting revenge for the Omega having similarly made him fall to pieces by her mouth's manipulation of his knot. But his mercy and compassion for his mate still outweighed that desire to appease his wounded pride. He wanted to help her, suspected she wanted to calm herself down with a nice and simple orgasm, not one which would further threaten to blow her poor troubled mind. Still there was a lesson he sought to teach the woman whom had been a virgin upon their first coupling: He desired to show her that the lust and ecstacy she was feeling, both in her soul and body, from the way he could bring her body to the height of its physical bliss would not _break_ her.

The only way to do that was to keep bringing her closer to her climax in an unrelenting way; to show her that she would survive it as well as the colliding of her emotions and her physical stimulation.

That it was something to simultaneously conquer and surrender to...

* * *

Even though I was the one on top, John seemed to be the one in the driver's seat. I had thought I was about to be spared from the overwhelming power of making love to him but the Alpha was only pushing me forcefully towards my coming. I was not shattering as I had feared though. The pleasure, the overpowering emotions, were rising to a similarly powerful level and I saw my only hope in embracing them.

I threw my head back and cried out. John's hand, which had been cupping my cheek, returned to my breast again and began to lustfully grasp it as he pushed into me. After a few seconds as I writhed on top of him, calling out in strange desperate noises some audible translation of the mind blowing passion he was making me both endure and ride out, his fingers centered on my teats solely, pulling on them as if in an attempt to milk me.

I started to move more forcefully, rolling my hips to please the cock buried within me. For if it was to be the tool my master was intent on teaching me with, he would find me an attentive pupil and fast learner. I was pumping the swollen thing between my legs with the same level of mercy he had shown me: very little. The Alpha's head went back again and he shouted out loudly. The hands milking me went to my buttocks instead and started to grip my full cheeks while I increased my movements, pleasing my mate's organ and unrelentingly demanding it to give to me the promised seed. Both of our bodies were covered in sweat from our lustful exertion and my hands started to move over John's chest, enjoying the feel of the heated moisture there and rubbing it into his skin.

John Wick started to roar again and I felt him going off inside of me with the pressure of a dam bursting. I came then too, spasming while I was still impaled on his firing penis. When we had both endured our orgasms, his giving his cum and me having received it in gratitude, I gently touched John's cheek as I felt the knot I had almost provoked to appear too early, finally setting me free. But I did not want to be free; I wanted to be my Alpha's forever and even longer than that.

Leaning over I kissed my mate's face, tracing with my lips his jawline and then the soft skin under his eyes. I lay my body onto his own after a solitary kiss bestowed on his forehead, waiting for my body's next urgent demand which I knew he would dutifully answer. John Wick crooned lowly while he ran the back of his fingers ever so lightly on my back. Feeling both the smoothness of his nails and the roughness of his skin, while his seed spilled out hot and plentiful from between my legs, I shuddered helplessly.

"I love you," I whispered, my cheek pressed against his chest.

As soon as the words were out, I feared I had gone too far and spoilt our arrangement. I had taken that one step which had never been his intention to occur. His fingers stopped their movement on my back and I felt tears stinging my eyes, my OCD telling me already that I was a fool. Then the fingers began their movement once more and John Wick said, "I thought so. I'm flattered."

There was no similar confession of love but I was content, never having expected one but finding my joy alone in being able to say the words and have them accepted without reprimand, recrimination or flight. He stayed contentedly under my body, not leaving even after my unplanned declaration. Eventually his arms wrapped around me and he began to croon again when he felt my body starting to convulse once more, not from an orgasm this time but from tears, hot and furious though born of a similar sensation of release and relief.


	18. Over an Unmade Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I find a way to mend John and Winston's friendship but make a decision in order not to betray my Alpha's trust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay...middle story arc starting now with some traces of foreshadowing...

Although my second heat spent with John Wick had had a considerable chunk taken out of it by the manipulations of the High Table, the assassin and I still managed to make the most of the time we had left. We both tasted one another and were tasted in return and we enjoyed the full space alloted by my large bed to try out a few new things. Not much of that space was currently needed now, however, as John sat in the middle of it while I sat on his lap, his erection safely nuzzled inside of my welcoming walls. I was alternately moving my large body up and down on his wonderous phallus and then grinding against it as well. I loved both blissful sensations along with the feeling of John's full ball sack rubbing against the soft, sensitive skin between my vulva and ass. He in return seemed to also be immensely enjoying himself, giving off little grunts of pleasure along with the occassional thrust, which made me squeal in ecstacy, and successfully reminded me that I was still only an inexperienced little Omega while he was still my happy to teach big Alpha.

Following another violent orgasm on both our parts, I stayed sitting on John Wick's lap, falling against his broad chest (perpetually covered in sweat) and just held him. I was continuing to let him remain inside of me long after his climaxes, knowing that soon my heat would be over but wanting him to stay as close to me as possible before he returned to the world I was forbidden to enter.

Remembering easily my sadness that he should exist in that world without a friend for company, I recalled Winston and my vow to try to help mend the two men's friendship.

"John."

"Yeah?" he asked, stroking my back and getting his fingertips covered in my sweat for his effort.

"Last time, you mentioned a man named Winston you wished you could forgive...Who is he?"

"Why do you want to know?" he asked, letting his lips find my shoulder to taste my sweat now too.

"I want to know more about you," I stated, mimicking my Alpha's action and relishing his salt on my lips. "I worry about you being alone other than Hal. If you say you want to forgive this man but can't...well he had to have been a friend once...can't he be one again?"

* * *

John Wick heard the question. It was one he had asked himself a million times but the answer was always the same. How could he make the woman in his arms understand just how badly he had been wounded and why certain scars refused to heal and forgiveness was a luxury he could ill afford?

Hesitantly, he began to tell her about his early days as an assassin and how there had been two men in his life who had sucessfully played the roles of mentors, friends and fathers to him. The first had been a man named Marcus the second an older British gentleman named Winston. Without daring to go into the full bloody details and inevitable violence of his life, still afraid Erin would hate him should she discover just how much blood was on the hands she let touch her, he described his relationship with both men lightly but focused more on Winston and his eventual betrayal on the Continental rooftop.

"After listening to him use Helen's memory only moments before to stop me from killing him," John said, resting his bearded cheek on Erin's naked shoulder. "To have him turn around and try to kill me to save himself. I might have survived that fall but my friendship with Winston, my trust in him, didn't."

The soft, plump Omega in his arms held him a little tighter.

"Did he ever tell you _why_ he had done it?"

John Wick kissed her shoulder again, liking how the softness of her kiss always made his lips feel ticklish. He lifted his head and kissed her cheek and then rested his chin on the top of her brown-auburn hair. "He said it was to save me...but who knows. As I said, he broke any faith I had in him, and if you can't trust someone there's no point in wanting their company."

At his words, he thought he felt the woman shiver against him.

* * *

I couldn't help but let a shiver claim me at my mate's last words. I thought of driving with Winston in the back of his limousine and my trip to the Continental before that. Having heard John's side of the story, I still believed in the validity of Winston's words too but I could see the pain that it had left my Alpha with; that he had believed that the hotel manager had been his friend and to have that shattered with a round full of bullets and the shattering of his bones as well...it was a moment he could not forget but relived endlessly.

That was _why_ it could not be forgiven.

My own OCD gave me some knowledge into the inability to forget certain things. With the mental disorder, a fear became imprinted on the mind and was conditioned to reappear whenever the trigger appeared. It was a safety mechanism and those suffering from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder's brain failed to be able to recognize the trigger object as safe, that part of the brain having been underdeveloped or damaged. It was similar for John whenever he saw his former friend: all the pain, fear and warning of danger returned making forgivess difficult.

Winston had not committed an act since to overpower and wipe the slate clean inside of John Wick's mind. That was the key to rebuilding the friendship between both men. If that could happen there was hope because it was obvious that while John was suffering and holding onto his pain like a weight he was longing somewhere deep inside to let go of the resentment and bitterness and consider the hotel manager a friend once more. I was grateful to understand this now fully so I could quickly tell the Englishman and then sever all ties with him until his relationship with my mate had been mended. For I could clearly see how deeply John Wick valued trust and loyalty and knew that if, in his eyes, I tarnished either I would find myself in the same boat as Winston. Having already once endured the fear of losing John, my first and only Alpha, I did not want to turn that fear into a reality.

"You shivered," John commented and I knew I had placed myself in danger too. He was an assassin set to notice an opponent's weakness and he had picked up on my fright.

Knowing that it was best to stick as closely to the truth as possible I quickly replied, "I'm worried that one day you'll feel that same way towards me and I'll have no hope of your forgiveness."

"Why?" John asked.

"Because people aren't perfect John; they make mistakes."

"Hunh," he laughed. "Helen used to say the same thing."

"Did she ever do anything to earn your wrath?" I asked.

"Yes," John Wick said. "She died."

I started to weep against him, kissing his shoulder intensely knowing that this pain had destroyed him possibly even more than what Winston had done. The grief of losing the only woman he had possibly loved and an anger towards her that could never be resolved because deep inside himself he knew it had been out of her control. Just as I wanted to bring him towards some healing towards Winston I wished to help the assassin learn to forgive his lost wife too, to reconcile his strong love and feeling of having been abandoned.

"I'm sure that she feels the same way," I said, stroking his back and feeling the wet blades of his shoulders.

John backed slightly away to look down into my eyes. "You think so?"

"Yes," I nodded. "She probably hated leaving you. I'm sure she'd ask you to forgive her...will you, John? Can you forgive her?"

"Yes," John said and I saw the tears forming in his eyes before my vision became blurred from the tears flooding mine too. "Yes," he said. "Do you...do you think she'd forgive me too?"

"Why?"

"For not being able to save her," the assassin answered and wept more freely with the confession.

I fell in love with him more in that moment than ever before, my tears falling furiously.

"Yes," I said and carressed his cheek with the back of my fingers.

With a desperation, John Wick held me closely again, his bearded chin prickling the soft flesh of my shoulder as it rested there once more. "I can _kill_ anything...if God exists that's the talent He gave me: to _kill_. But what took hold of her...I couldn't touch. It was better than even the fucking Baba Yaga."

I realized with sorrow that maybe there was one person John Wick needed to forgive more than either the friend whom had shot him or the wife whom had left him alone; only then the true source of his agony would be healed.

"John...can you forgive _yourself_?"

"No," he replied. "That one's impossible."

I choked back a sob understanding how self hatred was one of the hardest feelings to overcome.

"I'll forgive you _for_ you then," I said, squeezing him tighter. "Until you find the strength to do so yourself."

"Don't trust me that much," he stated.

Trust him I did though. Completely. All that remained was finding somehow to show that to him. Thinking of a way, now I was the one to back away slightly as I offered to the killer the vulnerable flesh of my neck.

* * *

John watched as Erin threw her head back, her long curls no longer touching the back of his hand but almost touching the bed instead. It took him a moment to realize what she was doing but, seeing the slight throbbing of her pulse in her neck, the High Table assassin understood that the act was her statement in reply to his warning, having slashed a great many throats in his life and knowing them to be fragile.

"Here is my throat in offering...you can bite it and take my life or you can kiss it and give my life meaning.," she was telling him. "I trust you, John."

The Alpha felt his penis growing hard once again, while it was still in the warm confines of her body, with the knowledge of the power he held over this Omega in this moment and the completeness of her faith and surrender to him. He held her life in his hands and it was intoxicating, as was her trust and love. Thrusting her already arched back towards him, so her breasts and stomach were pressed even more closer to his skin, John Wick began to kiss his lover's neck, letting his lips and tongue feel the blood running through her from the pulsing of her veins and arteries. Slowly he sucked on the skin covering them and heard her gasp as she felt aroused from the sensation and realized that he was becoming erect again without ever having left her. The Alpha began to lick her throat, placing his tongue at the space between both clavicles and running it sensuously upwards to her jaw, where he playfully nipped her chin. He repeated the act several times, including the soft swells of her breasts between them, until he felt his own arousal becoming painful and the temptation of her sweat glands almost overwhelming him. Bringing his hand to the back of her head, he clutched it and lifted it upright again so he could take her lips in his own. She hungrily returned the motion, forsaking the shyness from their first meeting. Her tongue met his own and the assassin was so lost in the woman he was not sure in whose mouth they met but only that he wanted to spill his seed inside of her once more.

Lying her gently back on the bed, the Alpha began to thrust as she spread her legs and began to coo and moan beneath him. Her loudest cries were saved for that moment when his knot emerged and she lost it.

"Ohhuuunhnn," she sounded, lifting her ass from off of the mattress to grind against the knot and his groin more, invigorating the force of his pushing when he had believed she had already brought him to his limit.

They fit so wonderfully together, John thought as he continued his pounding, as if her cunt was made for his cock. And her neck was once more offered to him as she was pushing her head back into the pillow and actually crying as she called out and whimpered her sounds of physical ecstacy that were consuming her. All it would take to start the bonding process was a simple bite on her sweat gland strong enough to draw blood. Then he need not worry about losing her or not being able to communicate with her. His mouth was going towards it, opened and teeth bared until Helen's face flashed across his eyes and he wrapped his mouth around Erin's nipple instead.

"Ohhhhhh!" she screamed out as he started to suckle it and the Alpha felt both relief and grief that he had escaped making a move he both feared and craved.

* * *

The end of my heat was no less painful than the last time. Possibly it was even _worse_ , knowing there was no chance for me to know the man intimately again before my next one. I cuddled against my Alpha mewling and only when he began crooning in return did I find any relief. "It's okay," he whispered soothingly into my ear. "It will be okay."

"No," I whimpered. "You're going to be leaving soon."  
I hated feeling so clingy, afraid that my need and for him would frighten John Wick away.

Instead he only held me comfortingly. "Not right away. I'll help you clean these sheets for one thing."

"Really?" I said, giggling at the thought of John Wick tackling the laundry.

"Yeah," he snorted. "I did it all the time for Helen. Besides I feel horrible about letting you handle it all by yourself the last time."

"It was fine."

"No, it wasn't. Soaked bedsheets on the bathroom floor?"

"It was okay," I said and kissed his forehead.

Not content with that, John kissed my lips and we made love one last time before my time of heat reached its end.

* * *

John Wick was suprisingly good at the laundry, insisting that I even use fabric softener when I usually didn't even bother. We didn't linger for long in my apartment's laundry room, the assassin fearing he would be spotted. The fact that he was back in his blood splattered clothing didn't help. I told him I'd come to pick up the sheets when they were done and we returned to my room to make my bed together. The Alpha handled the top of the bed while I took care of the bottom. I laughed and Wick smiled as we lifted the bed sheet in unison and let it fall down on the bed before tucking it in.

"I always want to run under it," I confessed.

John grunted.

"It reminds me of a circus tent," I said and then added, "Or a desert caravan. A collapsing one."

The assassin looked lost in memory or recollection for a few seconds. "You ever been to one of those?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

I didn't pry, seeing the man staring at the missing finger on his left hand.

* * *

I walked John Wick to my window this time when he left me and we shared a kiss before he climbed out on to the fire escape. "I guess, I'll have to call my boss and say that I'm coming back," I sighed, sticking my hands in my jean pockets as John leaned in through the window after having made it over the sill.

"Where do you work again?" he asked, narrowing his eyes and thinking he had merely forgotten something I had never actually told him.

I hated to lie to John again after our discussion on trust yet I couldn't bring myself to tell him that I typed up other writer's pornography for a living. Still I danced as close to the truth as possible. "A publishing company called Sweethearts," I said, telling myself that that _was_ what Eros and Psyche were after all. "They publish romance novels."

That was also _somewhat_ true, if you looked at it from a certain point of view as a certain Jedi once told Luke Skywalker.

"Interesting," John commented but I wasn't entirely convinced he was being sincere.

Rolling my eyes, I bent over and grabbed my Alpha's tie and kissed him. "Guess, I don't get to keep this one too?" I joked.

I was surprised when John Wick leaned forward to kiss me one more time and by the fact that, when he backed away fully out of the window, I was left holding a tie with the blood of several European gangsters in my hand to add to my budding collection.


	19. In Between Passing Cars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While John pays a visit to Helen's grave and Aurelio's chop shop, my boss returns and gives me an unexpected errand which might cost me my relationship with my beloved Alpha...

When I went into work, one of my fellow workers immediately informed me to go see the current editor in chief, which meant that Ivy Bunker was still in charge and that Christopher was still out there somewhere taking care of the company's business abroad. With fear and the always jarring sensation of going from days spent in bliss with John Wick to the mundane and socially awkward role I played at ErosPsyche, I walked towards the office Bunker had stolen momentarily from the man whom had taken it from her beforehand. I found my substitute boss taking photographs from off of the wall and replacing them with paintings. For my first time at the publishing house, I realized that the decorations which adorned the Editor's officd walls were different depending on whom was in charge. Apparently, Ivy Bunker changed them whenever she regained her former post and then returned them when Christopher was set to come back.

Only one photograph remained the same and it was probably the only one I had ever really noticed despite my shyness and failure of observing the rest. This was probably because it was right behind the desk in the room, where my vision usually rested, and also because the woman in it frightened me. She was beautiful, blue eyes, lush hair, pale skin, but of the intimidating kind that made your blood run cold whenever you looked at those heartless eyes and striking arrogant face. Whomever she was, I did not need to meet her to know that she would instantly see my weakness and formulate inside of her calculating mind how to use it to her benefit. Luckily, I had never seen her in the office before and I started to believe that she was Christopher's dead lover. If she was, I found myself guiltily grateful that I would never have to meet her due to this unfortunate fact.

"So you have another good fucking?" the foul mouthed little woman inquired when she saw me and I blushed.

"Yes," I answered. "My heat went well."

Ivy visibly scoffed, taking a picture of a winter tree at sunset from off of the wall and placing it in her box. Looking inside of it, I saw that most of the photographs were not of actual people but rather places, events or things. I could not tell if Ivy had ever loved anybody as opposed to Christopher's terrifying woman. "What's with the modesty?" she asked, hanging up one of Christopher's paintings of the Tiber. "You type out trash, I push it. Heat, when you finally got yourself a partner, is fucking. Four whole days of fucking, fucking, fucking and more fucking."

My blush deepened.

"So...Erin," she said studying the strokes from the artist's paintbrush which recreated in oil the stillness of the water. "Is this mate good to you?"

Her words stopped me from breathing for two reasons: the fact that this was the first outright discussion we had shared since her odd behavior after having seen my sketches of John's tattoos and also because her concern seemed suprisingly genuine.

When she didn't receive a reply, she cast her green pea eyes on me and blinked a few times behind the thick frames of her glasses. Then she sighed wearily, grabbed her box roughly and returned to the desk she would soon have to leave for her much smaller and less important one. "I had a goddaughter once," Bunker told me somewhat sadly. "She was a sweet girl. Kind of like you but not at _all_ like you at the same time. She was confident, bold and vibrant and could kick any guy in the nuts if he treated her the wrong way. I never worried about her; she could take care of herself."

She was using only past tense and from the tears I saw almost obscuring the eyes behind the glass, I knew that her goddaughter was no longer here and she was still struggling in her grief. Ivy Bunker had loved someone after all, it turned out.

"But you, Erin, you are this timid little bunny and I'm terrified some sly old fox will set his sights on you and you'll get hurt. You're kind and shy, and while that is nice in this miserable world, it will do you no favors. Neither will that OCD shit always clouding your mind. You are alone here too right? You got no friends?"

I hesitantly shook my head. My AVPD had prevented me from making any. She wouldn't consider Chris to be my friend since he was only my boss and I knew that John she would merely consider solely after me for primarily sexual reasons. I cringed knowing that she was probably right since the man had barricaded himself from having a relationship with me other than my heats. Still I considered the assassin to be my only friend in New York City.

"See. You can just be used and tossed away...poor little fool," Bunker said, shaking her own head now. "And you're too soft. If he leaves you you won't be able to take it."

I swallowed harshly remembering how devastated I had been when John Wick had not immediately shown up for my heat; the agony of suffering it without him. Whether he left me by choice or from the hand of one of the other assassins that haunted the underworld he was forced to exist in, I would be destroyed. But it was far too late; I had given my heart to the deadly Alpha already and I couldn't reverse that simply because I had caught a tortuous glimpse of some feared and painful imagined separation.

The temporary editor sighed. "Just watch your _back_ , Ms. Smyth. Please, watch your fucking _back_. Because some men, God pity them, well they can't help but kill anything that makes the mistake of loving them or that they are selfish enough to love _back_."

I could only stare at her until the look in her angry, wounded eyes practically propelled me outside of the door behind me and to return to my workstation. Once there, I tried hard to forget the small woman and her repetition of that one simple word and her previous recognition of the tattoos which graced John Wick's back.

* * *

John Wick was heading back into New York City after having visited a certain cemetery in New Jersey. If there was anything that was a benefit of having sold his soul once again to the High Table it was that he could visit Helen's grave with more freedom. He had taken the opportunity to do it a few times since rejoining the fold but he found his inclination to visit it increasing since he had made his arrangement with Erin to help her in her time of heats. While before seeing Helen's grave with the inscription and dates which never failed in reminding him that she had been taken, not only from him, but the world as well far too young, had still been painful in its way, after he had finally taken another Omega to help him with his own ruttings, John had found his few spare days seeing him wishing to visit her final resting place more and more often.

The urge had been especially strong since Erin had confessed that she had fallen in love with him.  
He didn't need a High Table appointed shrink to tell him that guilt played a very large role in his motivation.

Rarely speaking while he was there, John would place the bouquet of daisies lovingly on the earth that held his beloved wife and just try to remember the good times and not ask why she had been taken from him; he had done that far too often as it was. He never lingered for too long but would head directly back into the city. About two weeks after Erin's heat, however, John found himself staying in the area for a few minutes longer, needing to visit the garage of a man named Aurelio, whom finally had something ready for him after long months spent waiting.

"Here she is, John," the chop shop owner said, ripping the sheet off of the fully restored 1969 Ford Mustang Boss 429. "It didn't take me to Christmas 2030 after all. Only from your being made Excommunicado, to your presumed death, resurrection and reinstatement."

"Thanks," John said, running his hand over the sleek silver surface of the hood and recalling when Helen had given the vehicle to him.

"So...I hear that things are going well for you," Aurelio said. "If not exactly for the Table. Care to elaborate to an old friend?"

Wick gazed at his short friend from across the hood of the Mustang and furrowed his brows in confusion. Aurelio placed his palms on the car and leaned over. "You found yourself a mate against the Table's wishes," he whispered confidentiality so that his workers would not overhear. "So who is she? What is she like?"

The mechanic was looking at him like he was highly interested in hearing the graphic details of his sex life, like they were just two Alphas in the locker room at a high school. Never having been one to kiss and tell, and certainly not when doing so could endanger his lover, Wick only offered the other man something torn between a smile and a grimace. "She's human and she breaths," John Wick replied wryly.

Aurelio shook his head and scowled. "You're not a whole lot of vicarious fun, John."

The High Table's favorite killer said nothing in return but only offered him a look that told the mechanic that he should have known better to even try. Sliding in behind the wheel, John watched as Aurelio came to the driver's side and stuck his head into the window. "All things aside though, it's a good idea to keep your mouth shut. I've heard things. The Table is placing the word out for any information on her."

His hands on the steering wheel, John Wick turned to meet his friend's eyes, jolted by the news that the man had heard talk of the High Table still actively searching for the identity of the Omega he had defied them by choosing without their consent or approval. "What are they saying?"

Aurelio shrugged. "They want her name, address...anything and everything. The price isn't as high as a certain reinstated assassin's once was but it ain't chicken feed. Keep her safe, John. I know how wrecked you were the last time you lived through a loss. History repeats itself and I don't want to see you have to go through that again, man."

John blinked once strongly thinking of Erin lying in her own grave somewhere in the state or back in Canada, too far away for him to visit as he did with Helen's. The feeling of devastation that surged through him at the thought was like someone freezing every nerve in his body and then coursing it with electricty to thaw them out. It made him edgy and weak, not two feelings he enjoyed separately let alone in conjunction.

"Thanks again," John Wick stated with a nod. "For the car and for the concern."

Aurelio nodded his head in return and backed away from the Mustang. The Baba Yaga started the engine and hurriedly rammed his foot down on the accelerator as if by putting the pedal to the metal he could outspeed the feeling of apprehension and fear that the man's warning had caused within him.

* * *

Christopher had been back for about a week and I discovered that, while he wanted to meet with my mate, hearing details of my love life was not high on his itinerary. It seemed that the company had run into some problems overseas and he was more concerned with the professional aspects of ErosPsyche than its workers' private lives. Everybody was in a frantic mess but, being only a transcriber, they wouldn't dare discuss too much with me and my avoidant personality forbade me from prying too much. When Chris called me into his office, I half expected to get fired and was relieved when the man told me that his regular errand boy had called in sick and he needed me to deliver a few files to another linked company for him.

"Just drop 'em off and get back here," Chris instructed. "Ivy told me that you're pretty well caught up after your time off from your last heat. But things being what they are, we need you not only caught up but five fuckin' steps ahead, girl. Got it?"

I nodded and held the files to my chest. "Got it."

"So what's it like having somebody to share your heats?" my boss asked, eyeing me curiously.

"It's nice," I told him shyly but really wanted to say it was wonderful; I quickly revised my former statement to reflect that. "It's like Heaven on earth."

ErosPsyche's editor looked thoughtful as the photo of the woman he lived and lost eyed me coldly from behind him. "Yes," Chris said, nodding his bald, shining head in remembrance. "It can be."

* * *

Driving back into the city, John Wick discovered that no matter how fast he drove the Mustang he could not outrun the unease that Aurelio's words had left him with. His nerves had already been on edge since he had left Erin and returned to his work. Whenever he was with the Omega it was wonderful. Their bodies and souls fit together in a way that could almost restore his faith in fate. But whenever he left her apartment, a place he was beginning to think of as the one place in the world where he could find some form of peace, every single doubt or fear he thought he had escaped from came back with a vengeance. He suffered incredible loneliness and guilt, feeling as if he had betrayed Helen and feeling as well that he was walking a thin rope. He had suspected Erin had fallen in love with him but hearing her actually say it was another matter entirely. He had found a sweet Omega woman whom was innocent and open, so apart from the world of deception and sin he lived in that he had foolishly believed she would just give to him her body but would be able to keep her heart safely to herself without offering it to him too.

" _My poor naive John,_ " he heard Helen whisper inside of his mind. " _You honestly thought that poor girl stood a chance against you and your quiet, morose charms?_ "

"I thought the blood might throw her off a bit," he replied.

" _Oh John! You know every single way to stop a person's heart from beating but you haven't figured out how one works yet_."

The Alpha assassin remained silent knowing that even if she existed solely inside of his mind Helen still knew him better than she should.

" _She fell in love with you. And you? What do you feel for her?_ "

John hit the accelerator a little more.

" _I'm waiting John._ "

Luckily he didn't have to answer her or acknowledge the fact that his heart was racing with a speed equal to that of the Mustang because his phone suddenly rang. Taking it from his pocket, John talked into it a little too loudly, "Yeah?"

"Mr. Wick," the Administrator's voice answered. "We need you to drop by the Administration building when you return to the city. There are papers you need to fill out regarding Vershell's recent complaint against you."

"Yeah, right," John Wick replied, wondering which of Aurelio's men had played rat and reported his whereabouts to the Table on his day off.

"We must remind you once again it is not right to wound a fellow assassin. We..."

Seeing something bolt on to the street ahead of him, the Alpha didn't hear the rest of the bureaucrat's admonishment, the sound of screeching tires drowning it completely out. With immense relief, John Wick saw his newly restored 69 vehicle stop within an inch of the scared face of a doe.

"Mr. Wick?"

John Wick stared at the poor immobilized deer knowing that his reckless driving would have caused its death if he had not possessed the reflexes that had earned him the title of Baba Yaga.

"Mr. Wick, there is no use sulking about receiving a warranted lecture. You cannot continue to thoughtlessly endanger the lives of those whom are depending on you. Good day."

John Wick swallowed harshly and then started to gasp for the air he felt had left his lungs. Watching the deer run off back into the woods, and seeing in its fragility and large innocent eyes a reminder of the Omega he had foolishly invited into his world, John suddenly found himself agreeing with the little prick of an Administrator for once in his life: it was wrong for him to endanger anything so innocent; be it from speeding to try to escape thoughts he did not want or using a woman unknown to the Table so he would not have to suffer his ruttings alone.

* * *

I had never before been to the building Chris sent me to. It was occupied by the strangest group of people I had ever seen but then again when you dealt with pornographic material you didn't exactly encounter businessmen and neurosurgeons. The secretaries or operators in the building all seemed to be dressed in the same, sleeveless pink shirts and gray skirts. They wore their hair up and every single one of them, both old and young alike, had tattoos and glasses. They all seemed to be working on outdated equipment as if they were emulating some forties or fifties vibe which had collided with modern times. I felt disoriented as I was lead to the specific room where my boss had told me to deliver the files personally to a name he had written on a sheet of paper but had instructed me not to look at.

Taken to a smokey office, I was introduced to a sour little man on a raised desk. Even this man, whom I handed Christopher's files to, was dressed in a similar fashion to his group of working girls. He looked at me with a pinched face as if I was as repugnant to him as a decrease in his weekly paycheck. "You are _new_?" he asked.

"Chris' regular delivery man was ill," I said.

"Chris? Oh _yes_ ," he nodded before looking down at the files on his desk. He quickly stamped them and when he raised his bespectacled eyes he studied me as if he was shocked I was still there. "You may leave," he snapped and I quickly did.

Rushing out the front door, I was surprised to almost bump into a familiar face exiting from a limo parked directly outside. "Winston!" I exclaimed with a smile.

The Englishman looked at me with bewildered shock, " _Erin_?"

"It's good to see you!" I said truthfully, never having expected to run into him while performing a work related errand. Apparently he had business on the street and I wondered which building he was heading into.

Winston kept looking from me to the building I had just exited from as if in shock. I should have noticed it and the way the blood seemed to drain from his face but foolishly I ignored it. Knowing Christopher wanted me back at the office as quickly as possible, and not wanting to stay on the streets too long when I could never be sure where John was at any given moment, my thoughts didn't linger on his confused expression but remained more intent on relating my theory on how he could mend his relationship with John Wick. After which I intended on getting as far away from him as possible. I wanted to be friends with Winston but the knowledge that it could irrevocably harm my relationship with my Alpha mate was by then a dark threat I wished to avoid.

"Winston," I said with grave importance and seriousness. "I think the reason John hasn't forgiven you is because the memory of your betrayal is still the thing he associates with you. When he sees you, he remembers his fall off of the Continental and nothing else. If you do something, some act that overpowers it inside of his mind, then he'll allow himself to finally forgive you. Otherwise he won't be able to let it go."

"And how the hell do I do that?" he asked me, his focus once more on his fractured friendship with John Wick.

"I don't know," I told him. "But...I'm sorry...I can't see you again until it does."

The Englishman looked at me with a touch of sadness and I rushed to explain. "I love John too much to risk hurting him. I'd die if that happened."

The older man nodded, seeming to understand my reasoning, having suffered the full force of John Wick's abandonment. "Well, I thank you, my pretty little Ariel. You have helped your old Prospero well and now I shall set you free."

Smiling and on the verge of tears, I held the man tightly and received an embrace in return. "Goodbye and good luck," I blessed him.

Giving him a kiss on the cheek, I quickly hurried off down the crowded and indifferent New York City street, praying I had given the manager of the Continental the proper step towards earning John's absolution and keeping my role in it secret from the man I was hopelessly in love with.

* * *

His hands gripping the steering wheel of his late wife's present to him, John Wick watched as his mate walked down the New York City street completely unaware of the angry and wounded gaze fixed on her. His knuckles had turned a startling shade of white from an absence of blood in the fierceness of his grip and the rage he was experiencing was likewise white and bloodless.

When he had pulled up at the side of the road he had recognized the back of Winston and cursed his luck that he would have to avoid seeing the man. It was only when he had pulled up closer across the street, as traffic continued to pass by, that he had caught a glimpse through the passing cars of the face of the woman that his Judas was talking with. Instantly the Alpha had recognized the wide-spaced eyes of gray-green and the familiar styling of her curled brown-auburn tresses. Although he had never seen her in her work clothes, he knew the body underneath them intimately, every curve and every soft swell and fold and his body responded in excited remembrance though he was lost in the pain of his fury.

Having watched his Omega lover talking with his enemy outside of the Administration building, John tried to convince himself despite his confusion that it was all a coincidence and the two assumed strangers had merely bumped into one another. Then he had watched in shock as Erin had hugged the Continental manager and offered him a kiss on the cheek before parting from his company.

In anger, Wick's instincts told him that the woman had always known Winston and that his encounter with her that one day in the cafe had been carefully staged by his former friend; just another way to hold some form of power and control over him. Erin must have known of the Table all along and had been simply playing him in her own way, making him believe in her innocence. Only earlier, he had thought her free of sin and deception but she was seemingly as skilled at it as he was at killing.

Anger turned to rage until John Wick's hold on the steering wheel was so tight that he thought he should relinquish it in the fear that he'd have to bring it back to Aurelio's garage to fix once more. He kept his fingers wrapped around it for one reason alone, however: as long as they remained there he was locked safely in place inside of the car. For seeing his deceitful, traitorous lover walking away from him, John Wick felt the urge to hunt her down through the New York City street just like any High Table appointed hit and make her pay for breaking both his trust and his heart.

But while his sense of betrayal was making him tremble violently, and his desire for retribution was full, his wrath was tempered by a softer feeling: the Alpha need to still protect his vulnerable mate. Seeing her eyes imposed over that of the doe's, John Wick knew fully well that when he had been grieved he was far more deadlier and dangerous than any car speeding recklessly towards a terrified and helpless deer. And despite his agonized betrayal, he cared for Erin enough to want to dampen his rage so she would not see nor experience the full unbridled horror of the man she had given both her body and heart to.

Of course, that had been a lie as well, John thought bitterly.

And that was what wounded him the most.


	20. Against a Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Wick confronts me after seeing my meeting with Winston.

John Wick forced himself to walk into the Administration building and get through the blasted paperwork needed in regards to the complaint filed against him. As he filled them out, the Administrator kept his coldly amused eyes on him, obviously knowing that something was bothering him and, not so secretly, revelling in it.

"Something wrong, Mr. Wick?" he asked.

"No."

"Your hand is shaking."

John Wick looked at it and saw that it was infact trembling very badly, an outward sign of the rage he was feeling inside but trying to suffer quietly until the moment when he could satisfy it.

"Well make sure that the writing is still legible," the Administrator smirked. "Otherwise you will have to do it over and come down here again. We wouldn't want that now would we, Mr Wick?"

The image of Erin kissing Winston on his cheek flashed vividly across the Alpha's mind and he found himself applying so much pressure to the pen in his hand that it broke in two, as the piece of paper was ripped by his forceful scrawl. When he looked up, Wick could see that the Administrator's look of self satisfied glee had been changed to one of terror, having realized that the Alpha before him was one step away from becoming feral.

"No, _we_ wouldn't want that," John Wick agreed in cold fury.

* * *

When I went to tell Christopher that I had dropped off the files, his new secretary told me that he was in a conference and would still be in it long past my home time. "Was it important that you see him?" she asked.

"No," I said after some thought. "I just wanted to let him know it had all gone well and that the files were delivered successfully."

That wasn't it but it came pretty close to the truth anyway. In truth, I also wanted to ask my boss exactly what sort of company was run from the building I had just visited. The smell of smoke was still in my nostrils and the sight of the oddly uniformed girls with their tattoos and glasses, and the short man with all of the pins and his pinched, cruel face was still flashing across my eyes.

Chris' secretary looked at me in suspicion and I knew that she doubted my claim. She probably thought that I was really looking for a raise or promotion or even, maybe, her job. She glared at me in a fashion similar to the man I had delivered the files to and I noticed with a feeling of unease that the girl looked like she too possessed tattoos covering what areas of her skin I could see and her skin held many small holes, as if she had once worn pins but had discarded them and they had finally begun to heal.

"Is there anything else, Miss Smyth?"

"Ah...no...no. Just that," I said backing away from her desk speedily. "I...I'll be back at my desk typing up some more manuscripts...gotta keep five steps ahead."

I turned around and rushed to where a pile of papers were waiting for me, aware that the woman's hate filled, contact lensed eyes were on my back with every step that I took. Suddenly I found myself too afraid to find out what purpose the building and workers I had just visited served and only wished to let sleeping dogs lie where they will.

* * *

The papers all filled out, and knowing fully well that the Administrator would not be calling him back anytime soon, rightfully scared out of his little pincushioned head, John Wick walked with an icy fire back to where his Mustang was waiting for him outside. Although to the operators he passed, he must have seemed calm and in control of his emotions, the Alpha understood that nothing could have been further from the truth. Close to being feral, he desired nothing more than to unleash his rage on them, slaughtering them like a wolf would do to the chickens all clucking and flapping their useless wings in a henhouse. He wanted to paint the Administration building red for it was outside of it that he had witnessed and learnt of his Omega's unfaithfulness.

John found the other part of himself marveling in anger at how Winston could have even thought of arranging a meeting with Erin in front of one of the High Table's official operations of business? Was the man so foolish that he would dangle the woman in front of the Table in such a careless manner? His reasoning told him that Erin, for all her guilt and deception, still had to be unknown to his employers. If Aurelio had heard rumors that the Table was still actively searching for her identity, that led John Wick to believe that, whatever Winston was planning, it was of his own evil machinations and not theirs. But to risk Erin's life so recklessly when he had been trying so hard to keep her safe? Winston really was a selfish bastard, John Wick condemned his former friend even more inside his turbulent mind.

When the operator he passed cowered against the wall, holding the files in her arms against her pink shirted chest, John knew he had started to growl aloud; a crack in his assumed air of indifference having appeared after all.

The Alpha left the building and returned to his waiting car with both sides of his nature in a crazed chaos. Both wanted revenge and retribution against Winston and Erin and while one wanted to kill the woman whom had broken both his heart and trust, to wrap his fingers around her throat and squeeze it until she could no longer breath or utter another lie, he longed to do nothing else but to save her and hold her warm, soft body next to him as well.

The worst part of him and the best were consumed with their warring emotions for the woman and both of them seemed to stem from the painful realization that somewhere along the way of their meeting he might have started to return the love she had professed to feel for him.

And maybe that was the problem: both aspects of himself, sinner and saint cared for the female Omega more than he had ever intended _or_ wanted.

* * *

By the end of my workshift, I was pretty happy with my output for the day. I had finished more manuscripts than a usual day would have seen, despite my OCD mind raving at me that I wasn't doing it fast enough or I had to go back and retype this word or even that paragraph or else it meant this or that. Instead I tried to focus more on the fact that I had tried to help Winston as best I could and had successfully suspended our friendship until things were repaired between himself and John.

" _Yes, but you did it all wrong. You shouldn't have even met with Winston in the first place_ ," my Obsessive Compulsive bully chided in return.

"I was only trying to help," I tried to argue against it.

" _Well you should have continued to stay in contact with Winston then. You're just being selfish trying to stay in John Wick's good books._ "

I sighed as I turned off my computer. There was no point arguing with my OCD really. It made no sense anyway and while I always tried to hold onto some thread of logic it could bounce here and there, never caring what it had said just a moment before, its sole point of existence to ridicule or frighten me. Still, I replied to it, "Yeah, maybe. But I am thinking mostly of John too. I met Winston. I can't change that. But knowing how much that would upset him...I can't risk hurting John like that."

" _But you already have_ ," my OCD taunted. " _And he'll find out sooner or later and leave you._ "

I sat back down in my chair and thought of John Wick's handsome face and the sweet boyish grin I'd seen on it the few times I'd seen him genuinely happy. Finding my strength in that smile, and the memory of how the lips that helped comprised it had felt locked with my own and all over my body too, I stood up and started to head back to my apartment, focusing on the single best thing in my life and not one of the worst.

* * *

Inside of Erin's apartment, the Alpha sat down in a chair placed in the corner of the living room and waited in the dark. From his vantage point, he would be able to see his Omega when she arrived home and be able to take her off guard as well, which was what he hoped for. The key had aided him in entering effortlessly and now all he needed to do was listen to the clock to his left tick away the minutes until he could finally see his mate for the first time since discovering the truth of her conspiracy with Winston.

While Erin's betrayal had seeped into every pore on his body and stained every single molecule in it as well, he had retained his former cautiousness going to her apartment, still not wanting to risk her, at least not until he had confronted her. Then she would be successfully out of his life forever and there would no longer be any cause for the Table to use her for he would no longer care for the Omega.

" _But you do care, John_ ," Helen said almost imploringly. " _You can't just turn that off, baby, because you want to...that's why you're in so much pain now...because you fell in lo..._ "

"SHUT UP!" John Wick shouted at the false dead wife inside of his head. She wasn't Helen, but even if she had been, his tone and anger would have been the same. If she had not died on him he would never have been in the situation where he had fallen in with the High Table again. He had escaped it and only found himself drowning in that world once more when Helen had had the nerve to leave him. She had given him another life in the form of a puppy named Daisy, as if that could make it all better, only to have to watch her too helplessly die in front of him. All dead...all stolen from him...possibly _because_ of him, John thought with a sharp pain inside of his heart. All leading him one rainy day to a supposedly innocent Omega in a cafe, whom had shared her umbrella with him and eventually her body too.  
All so she could wound him in her own fashion.

Women suddenly seemed the most dangerous weapon life could hurl in the path of a man, John Wick regretfully mused.

Wick tried to block from his mind the memories of their heated couplings in the apartment: the couch where she had placed her warm lips around his cock, the bathtub where he had fucked her as the faucet had poured water down on their linked bodies, the kitchen on the floor of which he had pounded into her from behind while she hand been on her knees and chest and the bedroom where she had come violently and then, hopelessly vulnerable, had told him that she loved him. The memories of these events were only making him painfully hard and mad with lust for Erin, wanting to relive them again in the face of his wrath. He needed to clear his mind and focus before sex could mess his life up again just as it had in the first place.

Closing his eyes, the Alpha assassin tried to calm himself and keep his mind off of his body except for his ears that stayed open, listening for the sound of Erin's familiar footfalls.

Which came soon enough.

* * *

I opened the door and stepped into my apartment, weary from the events of the day and from my OCD. I placed my jacket on the coat rack and tossed the keys on the kitchen counter, walking to the living room to turn the light on so I could plop my tired rear end on the couch and maybe put a DVD in the player; the only question being if I was willing to invest my attention into a feature film or if an old TV show like Quantum Leap or Gilligan's Island would do the trick. As my fingers went to the switch on the small lamp, however, my eyes came to rest on a pair of black shoes shining in the corner of the room attatched to a pair of long, dark trousered legs.

"John?" I said happily as I turned on the light.

And then I saw clearly the angry expression on my Alpha's darkened face and my blood became cold before it stopped running altogether.

* * *

The moment Erin had walked through the door, John Wick's first impulse had been to run to her immediately. Not trusting himself he had clasped each armrest of the chair in his hands and forced himself to sit while she attended to putting away her coat and keys and obliviously came towards him. He counted her footsteps and glared at her in the darkness of his corner as she went to turn on the lamp. She saw him before her fingers turned the switch on and he heard her say quite joyfully, "John."

As the lightbulb bestowed its radiance on the room and revealed to Erin the full truth of his expression, he saw with pleasure how her own went from happiness to confusion and then to terror at last.

"Hello Erin," he said venomously as he stood and started to walk towards her slowly, his anger and lust only growing now that she was standing in the flesh before him.

"J-John...is...is something wrong?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Wick felt pleasure knowing that the fear was quickly invading her entire being as rage was doing with his. She was finally meeting the assassin, the dreaded Baba Yaga, and her growing terror was delightful to his wounded self. Simultaneously, the man inside hated that look of fright he could so easily bring into eyes which had only looked at him with love and compassion before. He wished to stop himself, to plead with his other self not to kill the look entirely as he had killed everything else good in his life but the assassin was fully awake now and behind the wheel; he was as feral as when he used to ride around the vacant parking lot in Jersey and set free all of his frustration and rage towards God, fate or whatever else was in control regarding Helen's cruel fate.

"What would be wrong?" he asked, stepping closer to her and noticing how she was backing away from him towards the kitchen counter. The scent coming off from her was delicious; so incredibly unique to her chubby and pleasing body, sweet like chocolate and strong crisp like an autumn morning yet exotic in a way as well, like a market in Arabia selling their various wares of spices and different perfumes. And still there was something new to it all as well, some scent of horror, and John felt his nostrils flaring to breath more of it in to his frenetically working lungs; lungs which felt alive in the smell of his own precious Omega's horror.

"Just because I saw you talking to my enemy and kiss him on his fucking cheek? _What could possibly be wrong?_ " he asked in a fearful growl.

* * *

Hearing John's words, I helplessly realized that he had seen me with Winston outside of the building I had delivered Christopher's files too, after all. Terror like someone had shoved a five foot icicle with a ten inch circumference through my soul seized me and I squeaked as I looked into my beloved John Wick's eyes and saw the face of the killer that greeted his victims before he gave to them each their horrible deaths.

Squeaking again, I turned to run for the door but felt John grabbing me from behind. He lifted me two foot from the floor and my feet frantically kept moving, trying to run away, but only able to run on thin air. Crying, I called out as John pushed me roughly against the wall between the bathroom and bedroom. The air seemed to be leaving my lungs in a forceful gust from the impact and my brain tried to reconcile how the one whom had brought the body that housed it so much pleasure and tenderness was now treating it so roughly and with little concern for its welfare. John Wick hit the wall on either sides of my shoulders, a loud sound of force and crumbling plaster which startled me and made me jump, as he trapped me in place between both of his powerful arms. Looking into his face, I saw the wrath contorting every one of his usually gentle features and my heart broke that I had made him look at me with an anger which was causing him as much pain as I was feeling.

"John..." I began to croon, trying to placate him. "I...want you to listen...it...it's not what you think, John."

I brought my hand to his cheek and caressed it and saw that my crooning was having some effect on my Alpha. He closed his eyes and fell against me for a second wanting to surrender and I felt his erection strong and hard between us. I stroked it gently with my free hand and crooned into his ear again softly. "Le-let me explain."

I kissed his cheek gently and I thought he was about to listen until he threw his head back, roared and then glared at me with renewed anger. "Explain what? _THAT THIS WAS ALL A GAME? THAT YOU USED ME? HOW LONG HAVE YOU KNOWN HIM?_ "

Reading into John Wick's anger and eyes I knew that he mistakenly believed that Winston and I had been conspiring against him since our initial meeting at the cafe. I saw then my only chance of salvation was in being completely honest with my Alpha mate. "After our first heat," I said, trying to speak past my fear. "I...you...you said you wanted to forgive him. I went to the Continental...you smelt...you smelled me and I hopped into a dumpster to throw you off. You left...but...but Winston saw me. He approached me in his limo shortly before my next heat...he...was worried about you...about why you were after me. He cares about you, John. He's sorry."

"AND TODAY? WHY WERE YOU WITH HIM TODAY?" my angered Alpha assassin demanded and I squeaked from the anger still in his eyes and thickly covering the words that he spat into my face.

Shutting my own eyes, tears flooding them, I squeaked again and tried to turn away but John grabbed my face and forced me to face him again.

" _TELL ME_!" he ordered.

"I bumped into him while delivering some files for my boss...I...I told him that I couldn't be friends with him again until you had forgiven him."

John Wick glared down at me for several seconds before he violently took my lips in his own.

* * *

Looking into Erin's tear filled eyes of grayish green, John Wick felt relief flash for a second through his mind after realizing that the Omega was telling him the truth. Her words made sense and fell into place, remembering having caught her scent that one day outside of the Continental and how later he had caught her coming out of the bathtub, smelling scrubbed to within an inch of being scentless. There was no scheme between her and the man whom had painfully betrayed him. The Omega had always been solely and willingly _his_. However, the knowledge that she had still betrayed him by going to the Continental, talking with Winston and then keeping it all from him during the passionate lovemaking of her last heat, John felt his pain, anger and rage in no way leaving him.

Nor was his desire for her.

His cock wanted more strokes from her sweet but knowing hand and his lips wanted the taste of her invading his mouth once more. Forcefully, he brought his lips to hers, kissing her in an act which felt like violence and love merged into something almost unrecognizable. His tongue pushed into her mouth, wishing to slip down her throat, before beginning to kiss the bared skin on that same throat; the one she had offered to him not long ago to show her trust in him. She made a noise, half a whimper and half a moan, as he passionately kissed her neck, letting his teeth graze it on occassion.

Yes, she trusted him. But he could not return the favor. Not now.

"How can I ever trust you again?" he asked in a low rasp into her skin, wanting to devour her so she would no longer be there to torment him in his still present want of her following her deception but to also make her still so close to him as to have her inside of him.

She gasped again as his hands left their places at her side and wrapped around her back instead, as he held her to him.

"I can't," he groaned into her scent gland. "Do you know what you've done to me?"

The urge was strong to bite her gland and bond them together, once and for all, to finally be done with it, possessing her, as he had always wanted to at last. But he knew suddenly with conviction that if he were to do it he would surely rip the whole gland out with his teeth so he could not be bonded to her at all and she could never make him feel as weak as she had made him feel in this moment.

"Why? Why? Why?" John asked the question that seemed to forever haunt him as he grabbed the woman by the shoulders and placed her down on the floor.

"JOHN!" he heard her cry as he started to tear the clothing off of her large body.

* * *

Lying me on the cold floor, my Alpha lover John Wick began to rip my clothing off, while I began to shake on the hardwood panels, not knowing his intent but knowing he was devasted from his simple repetition of the single question why and the tears that were falling violently from his eyes.

"JOHN PLEASE!" I begged, more to help him than to help myself.

When I was completely naked, however, John brought his hands to me, as I lay there, and I watched in shock as he began to scent me, rubbing his glands all over my exposed flesh and even sometimes using the glands on his neck too. While carressing my thighs, he rubbed his head against my tummy, scenting and kissing it and I found myself crying too in my pity for him and my arousal.

Back to my head, John Wick knelt beside me and took my face in his hands, pressing his forehead into mine. "I can't trust you anymore, Erin. Goodbye."

Gently, John Wick pressed his lips against my forehead, giving me the most tender kiss of our meeting before his intent to abandon me forever.

"John!" I begged one more time as he stood and I watched his strong back walking away from me after dropping the spare key on the hardwood floor in front of my naked body. The assassin did not look back once before opening the window by the fire escape and climbing out of it.

In my own devastation, I lay there on the floor of my apartment, the scent of John Wick all over my body though it brought me no comfort as I lay there holding myself and crying. The Alpha had finally surrendered and scented me but it no longer mattered. Having betrayed his trust in his sight, I was no longer worth anything to him. In a moment of supreme agony, rage and possessiveness he had covered me in his scent and marked me as his. But, at the same time, the act had served a separate purpose: to sever the ties between us. Our relationship was meant to be hidden and kept secret from the High Table. It had been the whole reason he had held back from marking me in such a way. By doing so now, John had, without words but with one shatteringly _loud_ act, told me that it no longer was of any importance if the High Table knew of me or not. I was useless to him, our arrangement having reached its agonizing ending.

" _See. I was right and it was sooner rather than later,_ " my OCD whispered and I wailed more loudly trying to drown both it and my pain out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this week I've had my clothing torn off by Donaka Mark, Evan Webber and John Wick...
> 
> Good week. :)
> 
> Tonight I watched John Wick Chapter 3 again. Seeing you riding that horse Keanu, I meant to ask you...is it possible to have a crush on a horse? Kim raised horses, right? Did she ever have a crush on a horse? Is that a little girl thing? Because, when I was a little girl, I'm pretty sure I had a crush on the black stallion from "The Man from Snowy River" and its sequel "Return to Snowy River." He was just so big and black and sleek and beautiful. He was untamed and free and possessed an energy and essence which was so powerful and male. 
> 
> I guess, you remind me of him in a way. You're free and untamed too. 
> 
> I want you to know too, once again, that I'm not crazy: I know you probably won't ever read these and I'm talking *at* you but not *to* you. But that's okay. It makes me feel better even doing that and there's still a chance that you might read them someday...
> 
> I have to hope and take the chance whenever it appears. No guts no glory and God hates a coward. And besides, as I said, it makes me feel better to talk to you like this. And I'm only really in trouble if you start talking back inside my mind which won't ever happen! Trust me! ;D <3


	21. Down a Clenched Fist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Wick suffers guilt, pain and anger while I am forced to return to work and experience a frightening moment with my boss.

John Wick felt as if his life had shattered yet one more time as he walked into the Continental. Only now it felt as if each sharp and tormenting shard had cut his soul upon fragmentation and he was now bleeding inside where nobody else could see. He was grateful for that, at least, if anything. Curious glances would have been salt on his many wounds, as would any questions or comments about his current wounded and obviously volatile state. He was lucky in the fact that his anger did not warrent their interest half as much as his sorrow would have. They were used to the Baba Yaga's wrath. Having not seen him during Helen's illness and death, the breaking of his heart would have been completely new and novel to them. Needing to collect his dog from Charon, however, the hitman could not avoid the concierge getting a closer look at his face and clearly seeing the devastation which haunted his eyes and the red rims around them betraying the fact that he had recently been crying.

"Mr. Wick are you all right?" the man asked, his usual lilting voice faltering for half of a second as he tried to process the fact that John Wick had been crying.

"No," John stated flatly, trying to keep his feral state at bay, frightened that Erin had made him weak and that other's might perceive it.

Charon paused for two seconds before speaking once more. "The Continental has a very good therapist. May I recommend sending him up? Or do you require another discussion with me perhaps?"

"I can handle it," John growled and he witnessed the concierge take a step back while his canine friend yelped and cowered on the floor by his legs. "Come on," the Alpha instructed his dog and was grateful for two things on the trip back to his room. The first was that Charon had let him go without referring to the dog as 'Hal' an occurrence which would have only reminded him of the Omega he had left in equally as inconsolable a state as he was.

The second being that he did not see Winston, mercifully, at all.

There was no telling what he would do to the Englishman, but Wick was pretty confident that, if he were to see the man, Santino D'Antonio would not be the only person he was guilty of killing on the New York Continental's sacred grounds.

There was no question in his mind regarding that one simple fact.

The only question which remained would be how he took Winston's duplicitous and worthless life. There were millions of extremely painful ways to kill a man, after all.

And John Wick suddenly felt very blessed to know every single one of them.

* * *

The morning was in no way different than the night had been to my devastated state. The sole difference being that one possessed a sky of fitting black, with a moon giving her light to it, while the day seemed far too bright with its carelessly shining sun in a sky which was too blue. I had not found one second of sleep and, in fact, had lain on the floor all night, naked and just as John had left me. Often I had broken into a fresh torrent of tears while I hungrily smelled and licked my own skin, trying to revel in my Alpha's sent while it lingered.

" _Please God...please God let him come back_ ," I kept praying. " _I'll...I'll do anything you want...Just this one thing. Let him come back and make everything better._ "

I was still alternately crying, praying and licking myself when the phone rang. In some foolish, illogical hope I rose to my feet and ran to it, thinking it might be John and that God had answered my prayer at last. Instead of hearing my mate's voice, however, I was greeted by the cold, efficent voice of my boss' new secretary.

"Miss Smyth," she began, her voice similar to the frost which accumulated on the walls of a freezer. "It is five passed nine. You are not at your desk. May I inquire why?"

"I...I'm not feeling well. I was thinking about calling in sick actually."

"I see," she replied. "Your file already states that, other than your heat leaves, you have spent all of your sick time and your vacation is not scheduled for several months. If you do not show up today your association with us will be terminated. As it is, if you manage to arrive within an hour your pay will be docked but you can continue to remain in ErosPsyche's employment. Good day."

The call was ended with a simple click and I was left holding the phone and fearing that, not only had I lost my beautiful Alpha, but the only job I had managed to find in all of New York City on top of it too. All in less than twenty-four hours. I could not survive both losses, was barely managing to keep my heart beating after the first, so I hastily began to prepare for work.

Stepping into my bath and washing John Wick's scent from my flesh, was possibly the hardest thing I had ever needed to do. I knelt there wailing as I ran the bar of soap over my body, smelling the trace of my lover being washed away down the drain. I had chosen not to fill the tub but use it like a shower instead. I didn't have the time, first off, but if John changed his mind and chose to return to me, I could not risk going out on the streets smelling of the assassin. I had to use my brain, even if I hadn't before and ruined everything by my stupidity. The water was hot and almost burnt my skin, the soap too strong and likely to irritate that same sensitive skin as well, but it was what was necessary, given the situation. Knowing time was ticking away, I leapt out of the tub where once John Wick had enthusiastically pounded in to me, and quickly changed and headed to work.

The mirror on my way out the door revealed a woman whom looked dead. Why shouldn't it, I thought painfully to myself: that was how I felt, after all.

* * *

John Wick woke up in his bed the morning after discovering his mate's betrayal with a splitting headache. In truth, he had not so much fallen asleep as he had passed out. There was an empty bottle of Blanton's beside him and Hal was sitting on the floor staring at him with a look of half fear and half bewildered astonishment on his furry face.

"No," the Alpha simply grunted as he ran his hand over his bearded face.

Although the night before the fact of Erin's having kept her meeting with Winston from him a secret might have warranted the two letter word would be in reference to, in the too bright sunlight of morning, John Wick's horror was more reserved for what he had allowed himself to do to the Omega female, whom obviously loved him. Sitting up, his mind was relentlessly assaulted by images of having torn her clothing off and then marked her soft, smooth body while she cried in desperate agony for him to stop. Remembering her eyes staring up at him in such desolation, John suddenly felt that what Viggo Tarasov had said about him was true: He was the Baba Yaga, a monster reprehensible enough to terrify even the boogeyman. Any man who could do that to a woman whom had accepted him with a whole heart when he had come to her covered in copious amounts of blood and loved him in spite of it had to be a monster, he lamented.

He was clutching his throbbing head, trying to forget Erin's weeping eyes and the sound of her sorrowful wails when his phone began to ring. The sound was piercing enough to make his brain almost surge in agony but the Alpha accepted it with something close to gratitude, feeling as if he deserved it.

"Mr. Wick," the Administrator's voice said in a tone similar to the chill wind which used to fill the ice house where Viggo had had him store the bodies he had use for later. "It is ten o'clock. You are not at your first assignment. May I inquire why?"

"I have a hangover," John Wick replied truthfully.

"I see," the bureaucrat replied. "Your file already states that, other than your leaves to attend to your Omega's heats, you have spent all of your alloted days off for illess. Your vacation is not scheduled for several months. If you do not show up today you will be penalized sorely. You continue to disregard the fact that the High Table has shown you incredible mercy by reinstating you. If you continue to show such appalling disrespect, you will not serve the Table but be buried beneath it. Now unless your hangover prevents you from aiming a gun or pulling a trigger we expect you to be at your post in twenty minutes. Good day."

John cursed as the call ended. Apparently the little bastard had resumed his air of superiority after the fear he had wisely displayed the previous night. Making hits while his mind was continually returning to the Omega he had abandoned did not seem an intelligent next move. Still, the assassin suddenly swung his legs from off the bed and began to prepare for work. With any luck, he would make one mistake and find a bullet flying through his brain, successfully ending the image of Erin lying broken, naked and wailing on the hardwood floor of her small apartment as he had left her.

* * *

Everybody was staring at me as I entered ErosPsyche and headed to my desk. I was shy by nature and never described as a beacon of fashion but I usually, at least, showed up to work in a state which was presentable. I heard the whispered voices of those surrounding me and knew they were in shock at my completely bedraggled state. Shock. I could envy shock; that feeling of dull apathy. Instead, all I was left with was a complete and jolting feeling of pain in my soul. It was an ache and it was heartbreak merged together to evolve into a feeling where I felt my heart and soul continuously screaming for somebody to make it stop.

Only one man could, however.

And he had forsaken me, possibly forever.

Though my mind and soul were desolate, my shaking fingers flew on the keyboard as I typed up page after page of smut. It was as if my brain hoped that if the fingers just moved fast enough I could outrun my racing mind, which always returned to the look of initial loathing and then suffering in my Alpha, my sweet broken John Wick's, eyes. So fast were my fingers and so loud the clacking of the keys being hit, I almost didn't hear a man named David Arlington, a designer of some sort for the company, saying my name repeatedly.

"Erin...Erin, _ERIN_?" he finally said, loud enough to reach me inside the wasteland in my mind.

"Oh...uh...yeah?" I said unintelligently.

"Chris wants to see you."

I looked at the screen and swallowed. "Oh...okay."

My voice even sounded dead and I think I saw pity in Arlington's eyes even though I usually had only ever seen contempt in them before.

When I reached Chris' office, the secretary looked at me from my sneakered feet to the Cubs sweatshirt I had thrown on and I knew she thought I was a disgrace to ErosPsyche and that I had been telling her the truth about being ill. My nose and eyes made red from spending the night crying, easily passed for a cold and she pushed her chair a few inches away from me as if afraid it was something contagious. I could have told her it wasn't. Broken hearts usually only affected one person, or two if the feelings were reciprocated.

She called my boss on her intercom and I was told I could go in to see him. I walked in through the office doors like some zombie that had managed to stumble into a pornographic publishing company in the Big Apple.

Chris didn't see me at the start because he was too busy looking at some papers, which were cluttering his desk. But when he raised his eyes and they rested on me, his brown eyes widened in shock and he swore. "When Liza told me you tried to not come into work today because you were sick, you weren't kidding. What the hell happened?"

My mind was still taking everything as some kind of game, like if I only managed to play it right, John would return and heal the tear he had created in my heart. I just had to be careful and not let the assassin down any more than I already had. "I...I must have caught something. I hardly slept all night, I ke-kept throwing up and my...my nose won't stop running."

I didn't tell him that the mucus was related to my continual sobbing and not from a sinus infection.

Chris looked at me in sympathy. "Well I'm sorry to have to force you to come in but new company rules. Management is coming down hard on all of us. We all are..."

I watched as the Editor in Chief's eyes were suddenly filled with a stark confusion as his nostrils began to flare. Still dazed in my loss, I only noticed it absently, mistaking it for something that had nothing to do with me.

Then Christopher rested his eyes singularly on me and I realized that I was the object which was troubling him.

His eyes became cold, akin to the way John Wick's had been glaring at me the day before when I had discovered him sitting in my living room. I felt a similar tremor course through me as he rose from the desk, his vision still fixed on me. He started to come closer, his nostrils still breathing in heavily and my feet began to take steps backwards towards the wall I had seen Ivy Bunker taking photgraphs from weeks before, when I had been a much happier woman. His gaze was becoming angrier and my Omega instincts were telling me to run for the door. Yet like a fool I stayed until my back actually did hit the wall and I heard and felt the painting of the Tiber shake behind me. I was close to squeaking when Chris snapped. "Where were you yesterday, Erin? What you been doing, girl?"

Realizing that my boss, an Alpha, was smelling the scent of another Alpha on me, John's, which I apparently hadn't been able to wipe completely off of me, I tried to think of some excuse. Chris knew I wasn't the sleeping around type. He would definitely not swallow any lie of that type. Desperately my mind flew to the events of yesterday, starting to when the man glaring down at me had sent me to that odd and cursed building. If he hadn't then I never would have bumped into Winston and John Wick would never have seen me talking to the man he could never forgive. In that moment, I was wounded and defiant, frightened and angry. "I delivered your stupid files for you," I spat and then screamed, "I DELIVERED YOUR _FUCKING_ FILES!"

Breaking down into tears again, Christopher stood upright and gazed down at me in a strangely indifferent way. "Yeah...that's right. The Administration building. You were at Administration. It would make sense why you smell like that."

I looked up into his eyes and was so exhausted and heartbroken, I didn't realize I was wiping my nose with the back of my sweatshirt's sleeve. "How is that important?" I asked.

"Nothing," Chris said a little more kinder. "You just smell of smoke. That place is swarming with it. I'm a little jumpy. You see, I'm trying to quit."

Wiping my nose again, I watched as the man returned to his desk. I had never actually seen him smoke before but then again most of what he did outside of the office was new to me.

I watched as he looked at his desk and then back at me. Seeing his primary transcriber standing up against the wall, obviously a wreck, I saw a slow look of guilt cross his face as he became once again the man I trusted and considered a friend. "Sorry Erin," he apologized. "That my employers are taking a more active role in the company, and breathing down my fucking neck, hasn't helped my already piss poor attitude."

"Your employers?"

"Yeah...the company that owns ErosPsyche, I mean. They fund us...without them we go under. I...I just wish I was still at the job I had before this one."

"I'm sorry," I now whispered, feeling pity for the man for I saw in his eyes the same misery I was feeling. It is a universal fact that it is hard to stay angry at anything you can understand and share the same sorrow of.

"That's life," Chris said. "Good days...bad days. Just got to learn to deal with it."

Not knowing yet how to deal with my own devastation, I couldn't reply. I knew that Ivy Bunker was probably right when she told me in that very same office that I wouldn't be able to survive the heartbreak of my Alpha's abandonment.

Chris looked at me and seemed to sense something wasn't quite right. Or maybe he was only afraid he had scared me too badly. "How many manuscripts you get through?" he asked.

"Two," I replied.

"Fine," he said with a nod. "That's good enough. Go home. I'll cover for you. But I can't save you tomorrow. I want your ass back in that chair, typing, right at nine sharp."

"Okay," I said but felt nothing but dread at having to return to work and pretend that everything was okay.

"Get out of here," he said focusing back on the files that were somehow important to the company. "I'm tired of seeing your red nose."

"Thanks Chris," I said and headed out from his office in still the same undead state.

"No problem," I heard him say behind me but his voice still sounded terribly strange.

* * *

John Wick did not receive his wish of a mistake which would witness his death and make his killer very happy with an increase to their reputation. Every bullet he fired found its target and every knife he plunged forward or slashed successfully sliced this artery or jugular of the next target on his list. Even if he had believed he could find some catharsis in his unwanted profession of violence, nothing worked in bringing him any level of peace. All he could see was Erin, her betrayal and his subsequent wounding of her alongside his own horrendous reflection inside of his mind as something inhuman and unrecognisable.

" _It was only because you care for her so much, John_ ," Helen tried to console him as he took another man's life with a jab to the femoral artery in his leg. " _More than you ever wanted to_."

What he wanted was to go to the Omega and beg her forgiveness; he wanted nothing more than to get on his knees and push his face into her tummy or the plentiful flesh of her bosom. But he still could not trust himself from harming her whenever he thought of her having communicated with Winston behind his back and against his wishes.

Once more the Englishman had managed to wreck havoc to his life in his deceptive and selfish fashion.

Distraught and destroyed, John Wick returned to the Continental, his rage and sorrow still being pounded repeatedly into his core by the beating of his still existent headache and a heart already broken once by Helen's death and now ripped in to two once more by Erin's forthcoming absence from his life.

Stepping across the lobby, the suffering Alpha heard the sound of Winston's deep British accent and his hands started to forcefully clench without realizing it, a deep and angry growl resonating from his throat. John stopped several feet away from where the Continental manager's back was facing him while he stood at the front desk conversing with Charon.

"WINSTON!" John Wick shouted, earning the eyes of everyone in the hotel lobby to turn on him.

His former friend turned around calmly, as if it were merely the man come to replenish the wine celler and not the world's most infamous assassin roaring his name in supreme anger. "Yes, Jonathan?" Winston inquired as cool and reserved as always.

"We need to talk," John Wick stated, as he felt his own warm blood begin to drip down from the palm of his fisted hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was reminded again today about how the series this fic is a part of is a labor of love for me. Yesterday I posted two stories. One was a Zootopia fic. The other belonged to this series and was from a film starring Keanu called "I Love You to Death." Within 12 hours the Zootopia fic had close to 300 hits. The other piece of fiction is closing in on a day and has 6 hits.  
> But I love it just as much. 
> 
> Nah. 
> 
> I love it even more.
> 
> Other fics in this series that I posted weeks ago have about 20 to 30 hits a piece. A Matrix one I posted on Thursday has 15. And that's *with* the hype about the fourth one coming out and currently being filmed. At the same time, I have received the sweetest and kindest comments about "The Matrix" entries. The readers whom have taken the time to read those tales seem to love them and that means so much more than vast hitpoints.
> 
> This fic here is actually one of the more popular ones in this series. Although there are a few others that have done well too like my "Knock Knock" one. Or, strangely enough, my "One Step Away" one. Though with the tag "tickle pee" that may explain its popularity. I never know how any one of them will do. But it's always interesting and I keep right on at it regardless. 
> 
> Because each hit, kudos or comment counts and the stories honestly mean so much to me.
> 
> And I am still hoping one day you'll read these, Keanu. Oh, probably not now. You have films to make, comics to write and new releases to promote. But maybe some day later, you'll find them. Although, *how* only God knows for sure. 
> 
> So I write to you now in the hope that you might read it then. Even if it is a long shot and gambling has never been my strong point.
> 
> But rolling those dice sure feels good if it means you might. Just about as good as writing these stories does. :D <3


	22. At the Front Desk of a Hotel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John confronts Winston. Meanwhile I suffer my first heat without John Wick and then make a decision afterwards which will cause ramifications I had not planned...

In the vaulted room inside of the Continental, John Wick silently mused, while he simultaneously raged, that Winston had to be the most bold and foolish bastard that ever existed to bring him to a room and surround him with guns and bullets when he had requested to speak with him in private. Of course, the man might have secretly sensed what the topic of conversation would be and had intentionally chosen a room which was soundproofed in order to keep the words uttered between them alone. Still, to place so many weapons all around the man, whom currently wanted nothing more than to spill his blood, was reckless even for the Continental manager, the same man whom had once cared enough to bend the rules and give him an hour's head start before calling in the excommunicado order.

Clenching his bloody fists, John tried to ignore the memory of how Winston, Charon and himself had used the contents of that very room to take on members of the High Table's attack squad. It had eventually come down to three (four if you counted Dog) men against a legion of the Table's finest, protecting the Continental's grounds and holding it for themselves while defending one another's lives. And they had been winning. At least, that one fight. But then three had turned to one solitary man lying broken and betrayed on the pavement outside of the hotel.

It was odd, John thought. Though his fall this time had been purely emotional, he felt even worse than when he had lain on that pavement, his bones fractured and wishing that he was dead and not merely shattered. Now he felt as if his soul had been broken as well.

The Englishman turned around; there was a weariness in his eyes but a resolve as well, as if he knew the battle between them that was about to occur, and how, though it would be considered small when compared to the war they had once raged from this very room, it was in no way less damaging or less painful.

"This is about Erin, isn't it?" Winston asked, looking John squarely in the eyes.

"Yes," John Wick hissed through gritted teeth.

"You saw us outside of the Adminstration building that day."

Not able to speak, his fury having constricted his throat to a degree where he felt as if he were choking, the High Table's favored assassin simply nodded very slowly.

Sighing Winston sat on the sofa in the middle of the room, folded his legs and brought a hand to his tired and lined face. "You didn't do anything you might regret to that poor girl, did you, Jonathan?"

Another assualt of memory, the sound of Erin's clothes ripping, the accompanying feel of the fabric being torn in his hands and the flash of the Omega's well known skin made John Wick flinch and close his eyes. When he opened them again it was to discover Winston leaning forward and looking even more concerned than before.

"You didn't _kill_ her, did you?"

" _NO_!" John roared and moved forward, the Alpha in him still inexorably fond of and protective of his vulnerable mate and affronted horribly at the man's question. Winston flinched now at the taste of his wrath and John stopped himself before he took another step.

" _But you hurt her just the same..._ " he heard Helen remark inside of his mind as the sole of his shoe remained touching the floor. " _You don't have to kill somebody to destroy them. You just have to leave them behind. Like what I did to you._ "

  
"Good," Winston said leaning backwards. "Because if you did, I would kill you myself in this very room, Jonathan. Oh it was before your time, and you might not think it to look at me now, but once I was a very fine assassin in my own right. Not as good as you, the dreaded Baba Yaga, but I've caused my own impressive amount of fear."

John glared at the older man, refusing to speak or comment as he continued.

"I'd kill you in this very room, on this consecrated ground and not give a damn when the Table executed me for it."

"You would _deserve_ to die," John Wick spat.

"For what Jonathan?" Winston exhaled sharply. "For talking to your secret Omega? That's all we did: talk. Is that a sin? She's a lovely girl really. Not at all the type I would ever suspect you having chosen but she fits you somehow. And she obviously adores you."

John swallowed heavily, more guilt and anger flooding into his soul.

"What _did_ you do to her?" Winston asked, sad and frightened curiosity in his world weary eyes. "You obviously did something. It's written on your face."

"I stripped and scented her," Wick threw his guilt forward to be seen and judged. "Then I told her goodbye."

Winston's eyes shut and his face contorted in pain. When he turned his gaze back on the assassin, his blue eyes were filled with reproach, scalded with bitter resentment. "You are a damn fool. You are intent on blaming everyone for your misery but fail to see your own bloody hand in it! You are implicit in your own destruction, Jonathan Wick, but cannot help but blame God, fate and every other person you meet for your suffering! We are each responsible for half our sorrows when we fail to realize that life owes us not one blasted thing! And God betrayed you no more than He does any man."

The assassin felt his fingernails reopening the cuts they had previously made on his palms, the encrusted blood going beneath the nails and fresh fluid flooding in soon afterwards. He wanted to wrap his hands around the Englishman's throat, to stop the words he did not want to hear. Still to do so would make him forfeit his life and the chance to continue remembering Helen. He had already learned the hard way the cost of that singular rash decision.

"Life, Fate God owe you and I nothing. Yet they placed in your path, if not mine, a sweet and loving mate to replace the one you loved and lost. A new mate you have managed to successfully hide from the Table, not an easy feat, I might remind you. God is your accomplice for once. Do not throw it away because of one foolish old man's meddling. And certainly don't dare hurt Erin on his account either."

One fact made John Wick's fury begin to dissipate slowly like snowflakes melting on the heated hood of a car before it had begun to cool. The words meant very little to the assassin, coming from a man he no longer trusted. They would only ever be worth the breath the man had used to say them. It was the look in the New York Continental Hotel manager's eyes that slowly wore Wick's wrath down for it was unmistakable that Winston had begun to care for Erin almost as much as he did. With this common bridge between them, and having already wounded the woman too much for his conscience to bear, Wick could not break it but instead let his hands fall unclenched and beaten to his sides.

"When did you get so philosophical?" the younger man asked, not exactly warmly but no longer on the edge of committing murder.

Winston smiled with an equal measure of sorrow, wryness and truth, "When I realized I had lost something that meant more to me than this hotel: the only man I had ever thought of as a son."

John Wick could not reply to that, feeling as if that man were dead and lying on the street outside.  
Sensing this, Winston's sadness multiplied but possessed one last bit of wisdom to offer. "If you leave her, Jonathan, do it to keep her safe from the Table. Not for any other reason. Her heart is not like ours; we are both cold blooded enough to still survive even though it has been broken."

John did not reply. He turned towards the door but could not leave the room without proving the man, whom had betrayed him and contradicted his own beliefs when he had shot him off the Continental's roof, wrong in his own thinking.

"I _do_ blame myself Winston. Erin knew that about me," the Baba Yaga told the man from over his shoulder. No reply came or indication whether the words had been believed or rejected. "If I leave her, maybe it isn't the High Table I'm protecting her from," John Wick said, his tone defeated, before opening the door and leaving the painful confession lingering behind amongst the other weapons.

* * *  
You can die from a broken heart.

It's not a myth.

It is called takotsubo cardiomyopathy and occurs when the body releases too many hormones from emotional stress for the heart to be able to handle it all. The beating organ begins to fail if only for the reason that it had worked far too well to begin with.

That was how I felt after John Wick had abandoned me. I had given my heart to him fully (perhaps foolishly considering he had offered me a proposal of mating covered in his victims' blood) and he had returned it to me not only broken but unwhole too; a part stayed forever with him in his absence, even if he did not want it from me anymore.

Although it was never my heart that he had ever truly wanted in the first place.

The assassin had come to me for the use of my body and this was probably the only thing which was keeping me from surrendering to my broken heart. Knowing that our arrangement had been based on our mutual sexual needs, his ruttings and my heats, I lived in the hope that when my heat returned, John might sense it and be lured back to my side out of pure lust and physical need if nothing else.

When the first pangs of my preheat arrived, I welcomed them with the fervor of a fanatic whom was hoping her suffering would call a lost god down from heaven, compelling it to forgive her transgressions.

I think Chris was just grateful to get me out of the office for a while, my heartbroken state not adding to his or the office morale during its already turbulent time. He knew by then that something was more wrong with me then a cold, which surely would have run its course by now. However, after the tense moment we had shared in his office, my boss seemed reluctant to pry too deeply about any affairs in my life outside the office. My presence was beginning to disturb him almost as much as the owners of ErosPsyche breathing down his neck.

"Go and get your man to take care of your heat," he said, not looking at me. "Gotta see him still. When there's time."

"Yes," I whispered, not willing to tell him that I currently was in agony because I was not sure _I_ would ever see my Alpha again.

I had returned home and did what I always did in my preheats: nested in my tub. During this time of waiting, I lived in memories if in nothing else. When I shut my eyes, I could almost feel the Alpha's strong hands roaming the curves of my body. My thoughts were not reserved for our lovemaking either. Our conversations in the moments between returned and I mourned realizing there were so many subjects I wanted to ask John about or things I wanted to share with him in the intimacy created while our heads rested on pillows, as we lay side by side. I thought too of how, not only would I miss John, but Hal also. Not that the hitman would even continue to call his dog that. He'd hardly been crazy about the name. But he had cared enough about me once to concede and call the canine by it even if it was more off of a computer than a hot pepper snack. This knowledge and the realization that my preheat was soon ending drove me to leave the tub to place the book in the window to alert my mate.

It was not difficult to select the novel this time; I had chosen it already when I had lain on my floor, naked, weeping and smelling of my departed lover.

* * *

Though John made it a point to stay far away from the city block where Erin's apartment was located, one night the High Table sent him in the vicinity and he was forced to remain quiet and accept the mission lest he refuse and warrant their suspicion. To add to his already miserable mood, it had started to rain. The past having witnessed him running down the New York streets in a heavy rainfall, this would not gave bothered him normally. Men died just as well wet as when they were dry. The problem was that now it hopelessly reminded him of a shy Omega whom had shared with him an umbrella during another shower.

Passing by Erin's window, his feet bringing him there against his will, John Wick made the mistake of looking up and seeing a paperback resting in its center:

Graham Greene's "The End of the Affair."

He stared up at it, the rain hitting his face, falling into his eyes like the tears he wished to cry but felt too numb to. The assassin stayed there for a few minutes before lowering his head and slowly walking away, having lives to take and no love to make.

* * *

My heat was almost over and I had accepted the fact that John Wick was not coming. Sometime during the middle of it, I had managed to walk to my drawer and pull out both of the ties John had left me with. I had only washed the one soaked in the members of the Prague syndicate's blood and the other one still smelled blessedly of my absent Alpha. I kissed and cradled it, breathed in deeply his scent, which lingered in every single thread that made up its fabric. When a wave of desire hit me, I placed the tie between my breasts and slid it between them, wishing it was Wick's cock and not just his tie. When this excited me, I let the tie fall between my slick covered thighs. Reaching behind to the space between my legs and under my ass, I grabbed the end of the tie while my hand on the other side grasped the other end of it. I pulled John Wick's tie up higher, making the article of clothing slip between my vaginal lips. Moaning and letting myself be enveloped by the remembrance of riding the hitman, I slid the tie up and down the length of my crevice, trying to use it to rub my clit at the same time. I still could not find the heart to place anything in the hole that had adored John's beautiful erection but using his tie for this act of pleasuring myself, while conjuring memories to aid me in my arousal, helped placate the urge that could not be completely satisfied.

I cried out thinking of sucking on John's engorged member, the taste of his precum and the way the organ was soft on my tongue. I reveled in the knowledge of how his cock had felt so deep inside my cunt that I had often imagined that it could slide up my throat instead of only down it. But it was the recollection of the look of ecstasy on John's face, whenever I had stimulated his eager and appreciative penis, that sent me over the edge finally and I felt my vagina clenching violently close to the tie, as if in an angry rage that John Wick's dick was not currently filling it.

"JOHN! OH JOHN!" I cried my orgasm not fulfilling my need because I could not take care of his own in return.

I slid the tie out and brought it to my face. It smelt of he and I then, of John Wick and the broken hearted Omega he had seemingly left behind. Holding it to my heart, my slick being smeared on my left breast, I began to weep furiously, feeling as if my surrender to heartbreak was surely about to begin.

* * *

"Management has left me with a message it wanted delivered to you, Mr. Wick," Charon informed the assassin after he had returned from yet another day's worth of Table appointed hits.

"Yes?" John Wick replied with the warmth of a December wind.

"He caught a glimpse of your stray puppy, outside of her kennel," the concierge proceeded on delivering the message to the lodger in room 818, even though the hitman seemed hardly anxious to hear it. "She looks ill, he told me to tell you. She has not found anyone to care for her. He fears for her wellbeing."

Another crack appeared in John's heart but there were already so many it hardly mattered anymore.

"Tell management that she will find someone to care for her far better than I could."

Charon glanced down at Dog for a moment and then back at his owner. "Would you mind me saying that Hal would argue against that sentiment?"

"Yeah," the assassin grunted. "Yeah, I would mind."

"Then you would also mind me saying, equally, that my employer, while not cruel, can certainly be described as hard when required to be, as often his profession requires. If this puppy has won his affection she must be rather special. It would be sad if something happened to her. You already lost one, Mr Wick; do not risk losing another."

Whether Charon was referencing Daisy or Helen, John Wick could not tell. Neither could he discern if the man had been told the real meaning behind the message or if he had figured the truth out by himself.

"You see Hal more than I do," John stated, returning back to the first unrequested remark from the man. "You should get all the praise."

Before the concierge could make more unwanted comments, John started to head to his room, Hal following closely behind. On the elevator, he caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection made by its silver decorations and saw that he looked miserable and sick. Just as Winston had said his Omega did too.

" _He fears for her well being_."

John looked sadly to the ground, missing Erin and wishing he could find a way to make sure she was all right.

"Keep it open!" he heard a familiar voice demanding and was disappointed when the speaker managed to enter the elevator before the doors closed, barring her entrance. She stood immaculate in her pure ivory suit, not a speck of blood on it even after a long day of work.

"John," the woman said with an overly charming smile on her beautiful face. "I was hoping to see you."

"Leuce," the Alpha nodded.

"The Table informed me you did not take your normal time for your mate's heat. Can I take it that it's over and you've come to your senses?"

Wick took a deep breath, tired of being asked questions he didn't want to answer. The Omega assassin slinked over to him and began to smell his dark suited body as her hands began to feel his shirt, sliding under his tie to play with a button. "I don't smell her on you..."

Absently John realized that the woman's touch was not arousing him at all despite his time of rutting having been unsatisfied. Apparently he had allowed Erin to get so far under his skin, like he had with Helen before her, that other Omegas seduction attempts no longer registered to his lust.

"She smelled so horrible like sewer water mixed with dog shit," Leuce said with a cruel laugh.

Hal whimpered before John Wick grabbed the woman's white haired head and rammed it up against the elevator wall, hitting her smooth forehead against the control panel to indicate which floor he wanted to visit before pushing it down towards the floor.

Leuce crawled away from him until she was on the other side of the elevator. Once there, she rested her back against the wall and looked at him in demented panic. "AM I BLEEDING?" she screamed. "DID I GET _BLOOD_ ON MY SUIT?"

"No, it's fine," John said, stepping out on to his floor.

Dog gave the sitting woman a sniff, whimpered again and headed off after his master.

* * *

" _Bad idea...Bad idea...get out of here,_ " my OCD was screaming as I entered the New York Continental.

"I...I have to _try_ ," I said, earning a look from somebody exiting the building, a tall, striking black woman with a spiderweb tattooed on her face, half of her hair shaved off and the rest dyed bright magenta.

When I stepped through the doors, I gasped for the place was far more elegant than I had even suspected it would be. It was enough to make the small apartment where I lived look like a dump. I wondered in shame what John must have thought every time he had come to see me. How could he have ever chosen to remain with me, I wondered. It was akin to contemplating Greek gods whom left Olympus to dally with mere mortal woman. At the front desk, I saw a woman dressed completely in white and thought that she was a beauty far more aesthetically worthy of the mate whom had forsaken me.

"He just attacked me in the fucking elevator! I wish to speak to management right now!" She was yelling at an attractive, bald, black man in glasses whom seemed annoyed to the extreme despite his polite demeanor. Knowing she was talking about Winston, I suffered a moment of desperately wanting to turn around and leave. But, holding John Wick's ties closer to my chest, I summoned my courage, feeling at the end of my rope but unsure that I would ever find the strangth or bravery to make it this far again.

"I will get him, Ms. Leuce, but really your complaints are..."

"Are not fucking well being taken seriously! You _saw_ for yourself this isn't the only time. You were there when..."

The woman in white stopped as I came to stand beside her. Her expression changed, an act similar to when Chris had smelled John Wick on me. I thought, in one fearful moment, that she identified John's scent on the clothing I had brought with me but knew that this was thankfully impossible. The ties in my hands bore my scent now more than John's. That was my hope in returning them to the Alpha assassin, after all: that he would smell me on them and perhaps miss me enough to come back.

The stranger was staring at me as if she recognized me from somewhere, although I had never seen her before to my memory.

"On second thought," she said all silky smoothness in contrast with her previous ire. "It can wait. You go ahead. I'll be around."

There was a smug tilt to her smile and a secretive glint in her eyes that I did not like at all but she sashayed away from the front desk and quickly disappeared into an area of the hotel I would likely never see.

"Yes Ms?" the concierge asked, immediately turning his attention to me. His eyes were filled with pity as he studied me. I was a mess, I knew. Though I had changed into the best dress suit I had in order not to stand out, my eyes were still raw from crying almost all of the time and I had not been eating well, having dropped a few pounds in my severe appetite free depression.

"Can I see a man named Winston?" I asked.

The man studied me. "And may I ask whom wishes to see him?"

"Tell him that it's his Ariel."

A look of understanding made the man's eyes widen for a moment and I suspected that Winston trusted this man enough to tell him his deepest secrets. "I shall get him right away."

"Thank you," I said and then went to wait on a nearby chair. My chubby legs peeked out from my black skirt but looked all right in their new white nylons. At least, they hadn't run yet. I held on to John Wick's ties and caressed them until a flash of white, to my side, caught the corner of my eye, making me look suddenly to the right. There was nothing there even though I had been sure I had seen something. Still I stared down the empty lobby my instincts flaring.

"Ariel?" an English accented voice said and I jumped about a foot in the air.

"Winston," I said, rising to my feet and turning to see the hotel manager studying me with sympathy.

"Come here, we need to get you somewhere safe," Winston said, placing his hand on my back and grabbing my arm to quickly rush me towards some other room in the hotel designed for highly skilled assassins and not helpless little nobodies such as myself.

The manager took me into a small little office and I saw a gold plaque on the desk bearing the name Charon.

"My dear, why are you here?" he asked sitting on the edge of the desk before looking at my hands, which were anxiously wringing John Wick's ties.

"I wanted to return these to John," I said. "I was hoping...hoping..."

I broke down then, suddenly feeling hopelessly insignifcant and stupid to believe for one second that by sacrificing the only two things my Alpha had given to me I could somehow make him miss me as much as I was missing him and finally entice him to return.

"Oh Erin," Winston said and took me into his arms. I wept ferociously on to the shoulder of his expensive suit, grateful to be inside someone's embrace this time when I surrendered to yet another outburst of tears.

"You miss him."

"Yes," I cried.

"I know," he said, patting my back. "So do I."

"Can I...Can I see him just once?" I begged.

"No...no, darling. You do that and then it really will be over. The High Table cannot be permitted to see you together. Go back to your apartment and wait," Winston said parting from me to look into my eyes. "Jonathan cares for you a great deal. He'll come to his senses. Don't worry. He's just being a stubborn bastard. It's the Russian in him. Ever seen one play chess?"

I smiled and shook my head. "Only on a Columbo episode."

"Well take my word for it," the Continental manager said. "They may make you wait forever, but they always make a move in the end."

I nodded sadly.

"Now let me show you out another way, one not so visible," the man said, taking the ties out of my hand. "I'll give them to Jonathan myself, the stoic bastard."

Winston ushered me quickly through the Continental and I once more marveled at a splendour I was unused to. I saw statues of unique beauty and even a barbershop, I thought. The Englishman brought me to a door at the back of the building and kissed my forehead. "Good luck, my Ariel. Your Prospero is attempting to work his magic for you and praying if that doesn't work."

"Thank you," I whispered, taking both his hands in mine before turning away.

I took a few steps ahead and heard the man in the process of calling out Prospero's famous words of comfort to me.

"Be collected. No more amazement. Tell your piteous heart there's no harm...

Then the words suddenly stopped.

I spun around in haste but saw only the doorway empty and the door blowing in the breeze. That same wind told me to move forward, a chill running up my spine. Fearing for my friend, however, I went to move back towards the hotel but saw his hand appear and silently usher me away. Believing he had seen someone coming, I started to run in a direction opposite to the Continental before I could be seen there and my relationship with John Wick truly ruined beyond hope.

It was hope, after all, which helped to stave off takotsubo cardiomyopathy, I had heard.


	23. Above a Lonely Apartment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I receive a visitor to my apartment but it isn't the one I had hoped for.

The message from Winston and the encounter with Leuce having left him in a very bad mood, John Wick found himself instantly getting into a fresh black suit following his shower, with the intention of going out for supper. Spending another second in the Continental was like listening to nails on a chalkboard as somebody simultaneously rammed bamboo shoots under his nails: torture. He was just deciding on which restaurant, preferably something on the opposite side of the city from Erin's apartment, when he opened the door to find a suprise waiting for him.

While usually seeing Winston these days made John Wick's blood boil as if it was directly under the sun, it now froze in his body as he looked at the runner leading up to his hotel room door and found the Englishman trying to drag himself down it and towards him. Winston's throat had been sliced and he appeared to have several wounds in his body as well. Still he was crawling on the floor, leaving a bloody track behind him. An object was in his hands and he was obviously trying to deliver it as his final act.

His anger and hatred towards the man being shoved instantly aside by his compassion, John Wick instantly went and knelt by Winston, leaving the door open behind him.

"Winston," the assassin said, careful to not move the man incase that only pushed him closer towards death. He could not understand what had led the Continental's manager to come to his door instead of going for help first, until his eyes fell on the object in the wounded man's hands, two articles of clothing being presented to him as if it was the only answer he would ever need.

Two ties.

The ties he had given to Erin.

The Omega's scent was strongly on them and John was hit with a new wave of yearning and lust for her as he inhaled the first bit of it, like a drug user being offered their first hit after having been abstinent for so long. Hal seemed to smell it too, emerging from the door behind his master to smell the ties in the bleeding man's hands.

"She was here?" John asked the fallen man.

Winston tried to nod but earned for the effort the pool of blood at the end of the slash starting to run down his neck in a great red rivlet to mimic the one on the runner. Contorting his face in pain, Winston suddenly grabbed a hold of his neck, dropped the ties to the floor and began to point at John Wick's clean shirt and fresh socks which matched its pure shade of ivory.

Leuce.

The motel manager's hand then half gripped as he moved it, clenching like a bear claw, by his head, offering up the signed symbol for the word hunt.

Grabbing the ties from off the floor, Wick glanced at the man lying at his feet. "I can't risk moving you, Winston," he informed as he stood. "I'll call the ambulance on my way."

The Brit waved the assassin forward in annoyance, no longer concerned with his own fate.

Running down the Continental's corridor, John Wick reached into his pocket, calling for a High Table pointed ambulance in the vicinity as Hal remained behind, keeping watch over the now unconscious form of Winston.

* * *

Back at my apartment, still dressed up, I decided to finally give in to my hunger and eat something. Finding only eggs in my refrigerator, I decided breakfast for supper wasn't too far off from the mess my life had become and took them out, not even bothering to check the expiry date first. In a trance, my mind just repeating Winston's words of hope over and over again for solace, I was grabbing the frying pan out from the cupboard when I heard the knock on the door. I was so happy thinking it might be John that I forgot to put the pan down first but simply rushed to the door instead, my broken heart far outweighing my hand's complaint that the object in it was too heavy.

"John!" I was saying foolishly as I opened it, hoping that maybe returning the ties bearing my scent had worked as I had hoped. Instead, I was severely disappointed to find a woman dressed all in white, staring at me far too politely to be anywhere close to what she was truly feeling inside. I recognized her as the woman at the Continental's front desk immediately and felt my shattered heart freeze as well.

"So _you_ are John Wick's mate," the woman stated. "Well he certainly chose an Omega _nobody_ would suspect. I'll give him that."

From the jealousy in her eyes, I swallowed heavily, knowing that I had just had the long avoided misfortune of meeting one of the Table's chosen canidates to breed with John.

"Fat, poor and dumb. Who would think..." the other Omega was saying but she didn't get to think for too long.

I lifted the frying pan in my hand and hit her straight on her gorgeous yet cruel face with it.

I don't know why I stood their staring at her after the pan had been introduced to her nose with success and broken it with a loud crack. Maybe I had seen too many cartoons and expected the impact to knock her out and a swarm of birds to appear; maybe it was that my feet were still processing the terror which had seized me upon seeing her at my door and refused to move. Or maybe it was the striking and hypnotizing sight of the blood fastly gushing out from the woman's nose and painting her immaculately white suit in crimson.

I watched, still frozen in place, as the woman brought a hand to her now smashed nose and then swiftly looked at the blood covering her palm and the front of her shirt.

"Blood," she whispered. "You...you stupid, fat, insignificant Omega! You...you of all people stained me?"

To answer her outraged stupefaction I repeated the action, sending another spray of blood to come out and cover her. My feet now realizing the greater pain which awaited them if they stayed petrified, I headed for the window to my apartment and the fire escape outside.

* * *

John Wick thanked God for his returned Mustang as he expertly careened down the New York City streets towards Erin's apartment. He offered up a prayer as well that the woman would be safe. Her well being was his primary concern and the Alpha cursed himself that he had ever forgotten that while he had been holding tightly to a past grudge and licking his own wounds instead of protecting her. He had forgotten that the Omega might love him enough to come looking for him, endangering her life. Overlooking her love for him had been his own greatest sin, John realized. He had taken her meeting with Winston as some indication that she might not love him when the opposite had been true: she loved him enough to risk his wrath by trying to heal his broken relationship with a friend. And she had been suffering without him enough to gamble with her own life by going to the Continental.

Cutting off a Buick about a block away from his destination, Wick felt himself jolted against the steering wheel of the Mustang as another vehicle, a Toyota truck, rammed into the passenger side of his car, sending it spinning. The Alpha braced himself as the car hit the pole of a street lamp, badly denting the hood, not to mention the street lamp itself, and warranting a lecture from Aurelio the next time they met.

Not wounded, John quickly climbed out of the vehicle when the traffic before him seemed to halt amidst the accident. Every second counted now if Leuce had reached Erin's apartment and it would be faster if he went by foot. John Wick began to run, not needing to ask himself why his feet were managing a much greater speed than the night when he had been running to save his own life.

* * *

I dropped the frying pan in order to make it out of the window with more ease but found a horrible problem with my escape plan. A large transport delivering goods to the building beside my apartment had blocked off the bottom of the stairs and the way for me to reach the ground and then the sidewalk.

"Shit, shit, shit," I exclaimed as I heard a gun being loaded behind me. I crawled on to the fire escape, heading upwards instead of downwards as I had hoped and planned.

My weight made my shoes sound even more prominently on the steel steps and when my hunter stepped on the fire escape, as well, and began her pursuit, her own footfalls were almost barely audible. The sound of bullets hitting the steel bars and railings around me, however, were not. The woman was screaming wildly, in a mad rage, as I ascended the fire escape towards the building's attic, where a window had been fortuitously left open. If I could reach the attic there was a chance I could go down from there or hide, at least. If I went to the roof I would be out in the open and could only possibly experience for myself what John had felt when he had fallen from the Continental rooftop. I doubted my landing would be so miraculous, however.

Peering in through the window, I saw that the top floor was used for storage. Huge boxes covered its space along with large, forgotten items such as pianos, cabinets and dining tables. Everything was covered in cobwebs, and as I climbed in, a spider raced across the back of my hand. I ignored it, more concerned with the angry, bloodied assassin behind me than the spider whom I had so rudely tresspassed on to its territory.

Then again, that was probably the same grievance the crazed Omega held against me.

* * *

John Wick was on the street outside of his mate's apartment in time to see Leuce stepping angrily into a top floor window. His gun aimed and ready he was still not quick enough to get a shot off before the High Table assassin disappeared into it.

A transport was blocking the way to the fire escape but John Wick did not let such a trivial obstacle stop him. Grabbing onto the engine compartment, the assassin pulled himself on to it and then to the cabin and finally the air dam. Running along the length of the semi trailer, he finally managed to hop on to the fire escape, which made a loud clang as his shoes landed firmly on it. Looking above him, John accessed the situation, knowing that both Omegas were probably in the apartment's attic, one being the hunter and the other the prey, the one that held his heart. The two women had a head start in their dangerous game, Erin probably having entered moments before Leuce, which would place her more towards the back of the room. Looking at the row of windows, John reached inside of his jacket for the ties Erin had brought back to him.

* * *

I was hiding closer to the back of the room, lying on the dust covered floor as Leuce was searching for me amongst the bric a brack and boxes. It was one of those latter which was momentarily concealing me while she continued her hunt, her gun held against her chest and ready to be used. I had not managed to reach a door before she had entered the attic but had chosen to hide instead. The choice would probably get me killed, I knew, as the woman stopped deciding to waste her energy and suddenly pushed past the anger clouding her mind to regain her intelligence and start following the marks I had left behind in the dust on the floor.

"Aww...poor little rabbit doesn't know how to cover her tracks," Leuce said, her teeth looking as stained as her suit had been, in the darkness of the attic. The few bits of white glinted in a sea of red at the center of the bottom half of her blood covered face and I knew I was seeing what lay behind the female assassin's beauty and false air of elegance and repose. "I'm gonna have fun catching you rabbit. I think I'll play with you for a bit before I skin you and then hand you over to the High Table; make you pay for sullying me. Over a decade in this fucking business and someone like _you_ gets me dirty. You get the honor of being John Wick's chosen mate and that too...Ohhhhh...I'll make you wish you'd never heard of John fucking Wick. Only you didn't get to fuck him last time, right? What? He grow tired of your reeking cunt? I recognized you the moment you moved your fat, body next to mine at the Continental. Well John came to his senses, at last. You will too when I've finished desolating each one of them on that disgusting body of yours, bitch."

Lying on the floor, I knew I probably should have been terrified and wishing that I never had met John Wick. It hadn't ended particularly well. Endings were what usually mattered to me. As a teenager, I had started the practice of flipping to the end of a book to see what the ending was like. If it was particularly bad, I hadn't fancied investing too much time in it only to end up wishing I had never read it when I reached a sour, tragic and unexpected conclusion. I liked to fool myself that in fiction, at least, happy endings were possible. I thought of the handsome hitman I had met that day in the small cafe and knew that he was my own bad ending, one I could not warn myself about because life wasn't one of the novels he had restored after retiring with his beloved wife to what should have been a long life of contentment. Or which I placed in the window to let him know that my time of heat had finally arrived after his life had fallen apart and his contentment destroyed.

But remembering the few days and nights we had shared together during my heats or when he had come that one cherished time just to watch a film and so we could bark at each other playfully and laugh about it afterwards, I would not have changed it even if I had known that it would lead to him abandoning me and my death at the hands of one of his refused mates. Some bad endings were _worth_ it, I realized, holding on to my love for the assassin in the face of my impending torture and death.

As Leuce came ever closer towards me, what I truly longed for was not escape or some Deus ex Machina but rather one last chance to see my Alpha. Only that would make my heart feel better after its shattering.

With that thought, that single regret and overwhelming need, I was shocked as I heard a sound to my right and witnessed, before I closed my eyes, a million shards of glass falling around me as my Alpha mate, my beautiful John Wick, crashed through the attic window, swinging inside on what looked like a makeshift rope constructed of two familiar ties knotted together.

* * *

As John crashed through the window, he looked at the many fragments of glass and remembered how only days before he had compared the state of his heart to having shattered in similar fashion. Seeing the glittering pieces falling like snow, John Wick understood that if he did not reach Erin before Leuce did his heart would not be let off so easily this time when it fractured. If the woman died it would be crushed; glass returning to the sand it had once been before its formation. What a human heart was before its first beating, John Wick did not know, though he suspected it was nothing. Yes. That seemed right. If he failed in rescuing his mate his heart would return to not existing; it would be just as dead as when he had lost his Helen. But soon his eyes rested on the familiar form of his Omega, lying flat on her stomach behind a large box, her pretty curled hair having captured shards of the broken glass. Leuce was several feet away, closing in on her prey but the huntress stopped as fragments of glass hit her and John Wick saw some of the pieces become stuck in the blood which was covering her face, like flecks of ice in a red sea.

Instantly, the Alpha landed by Erin's supine form and placed his arm protectively over her. "STAY DOWN!" he ordered as he took a shot at his fellow assassin for the High Table. Leuce shot her own gun once before hiding behind another box.

"You come to save her, John?" Leuce shouted. "She's dead once I get out of here and tell the Table!"

Rising to his knees, his gun held up in front of him, John nodded reassuringly at his mate, whom nodded in return and covered her head as she further flattened her chubby body.

"You are too, Leuce," John said, beginning to move along the attic floor. It was integral he get to the other assassin before she reached the door and escaped, rushing to inform anyone who would listen about the identity of the Baba Yaga's Omega lover. "You conducted business on Continental ground."

"Oh please!" Leuce laughed, the high pitched squeal of a woman bidding sanity goodbye. "You think the Table cares for that stupid little Englishman? They might have arranged a parlay and an arrangement but everybody that sits at the Table cannot wait to see him dead after having helped you. Believe me, they'll thank me for it. Or haven't you realized, John? The Table may insure that the rules are _enforced_ ; but that doesn't mean they have to _live_ by them."

Hearing movement to his side, between a cabinet and a sewing machine, John aimed his gun but found only a small nest of mice.

"You don't matter all that much either, for that matter," Leuce continued and cackled. "Just your cum. They want what comes _after_ you. You're already getting old, John Wick. They want the future. You're still good but they're now far more interested in the other set of bullets you carry than the ones they supply you with."

The Alpha was having difficulty seeing in the poorly lit attic. The broken window offered a little more light but it was at his back and everything else was in shadow while the dust floated around them in the air, the large attic room having seen more action and excitement than it had in ages in the course of ten minutes.

* * *

John was struggling to see. The light being let in from the window was behind him. From my place of hiding, I watched in horror as Leuce stood where she had silently crawled behind a dress maker's mannequin. She used it to shield her body while she prepared to shoot John. Not knowing what else to do, having already experienced a few weeks without John Wick, and not liking the thought of living a complete life without him, I started to stand, offering the other Omega a target which would interest her more.

"Leuce," I cried out, getting to my feet.

I saw her turn in my direction, forgetting John entirely as the chance to get her revenge on her rival and the wounder to her ego, face and suit presented itself so openly.

* * *

Hearing Erin's voice, John immediately turned to see his mate standing, the light falling down on her and casting her in an eerie glow. At the same time, he witnessed a sewing dummy coming to life and apparently moving on its own, turning to aim a gun on the woman he had fallen in love with against his will. The gun in his hand moved with a speed that made the woman's previous insults about his age seem as false as his belief that he could ever stay away from the Omega he had chosen after Helen.

He loved his new mate, John knew and accepted.

He loved his Erin.

The bullet found the back of Leuce's head and he watched as blood flew from it, staining her suit from the back now as well. Not content with that one act of violence towards the threat to his lover, his Alpha protectiveness at its full pinnacle, John found his finger pulling the trigger repeatedly until the woman's suit was spotted with bullet holes at the back, making it resemble a tacky jacket featuring morbid polka dots.

"John!" Erin cried and only then did he find the power to stop himself.

The hitman faced her, opening his arms as his Omega quickly ran to him. Embracing her soft form, John Wick welcomed her return and the way she felt so innocent and sensuous in his hold. Together they turned to watch as Leuce slid down the body of the dummy she had been using as both mask and shield. She landed on her back, her bloodied face on full display as she stared vacantly at the ceiling.

"That your work?" John asked, studying the full extent of the damage done to the other assassin's face.

Erin nodded. "With a frying pan. I was about to scramble up some eggs."

John Wick smiled. "Remind me to ask you only for hardboiled."

A few seconds passed before he whispered, "I told you to stay down. You could have gotten yourself killed."

"After these last few weeks, you think I want live without you, John Wick?" Erin said and then placed her head against his chest and kissed it.

John took her head gently in his hands and tenderly guided her lips to his own instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're worried about Winston, don't be: He lives. I've got plans for him coming up.
> 
> Watched Police Academy 7: Mission to Moscow on Friday night. Watched Freaked on Saturday. Keanu, Freaked is much better. I don't think you have ever made a film as bad as Police Academy 7. I have yet to see all your work but I think it's safe to say you haven't. Freaked is really funny. Tell Alex that when you talk to him (once again, yeah, I know I'm typing to myself here, but I hope he knows it's a fun little film.)
> 
> Still suffering the after effects of a bad week. But Freaked cheered me up. Especially seeing Ortiz my Dog Boy. Can I scratch him behind the ear, Keanu? Will he move his leg for me if I did? Could we play fetch? He's already caught my heart. 
> 
> Because he's a part of you.
> 
> And you *do* work like a dog. :/ Take care of yourself!
> 
> Much love,  
> Erin  
> :D <3


	24. Edge of a Tub, Edge of a Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Wick makes two decisions regarding our relationship after our reconciliation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this chapter brings this series to over 600,000 words written since October of last year. Yay! :D <3

Slowly, John and I walked back down the fire escape to my apartment. I was trembling quite badly by then, the full realization of all that had happened finally hitting me and making me more shaky than when Leuce had actually been hunting me in the attic. Feeling my Alpha's strong arms once more around me, my head resting against his chest and actually feeling his own pounding heart, made it worth all the fleeting horror and ephemeral pain.

"In," John instructed gently as we reached the window and I climbed in, feeling the evening wind cool on my thighs, which the nylons did little to keep warm. I heard the assassin grunt behind me and new that he was admiring the view, which made my own heart pound. I wondered if he was as sexually frustrated as I was following the unanswered needs of my last heat. Of course, it having passed there was no chance of satisfaction for either of us.

John Wick had made that clear after all

When I was inside of my apartment, I turned to watch John Wick entering too and my heart just about exploded with joy and relief at the familiar sight. I held myself as we stood silently staring at one another, the first time we had been inside our agreed meeting place since he had confronted, scented and abandoned me.

"How did you know?" I asked.

"Winston," the assassin replied. "Leuce attacked him after you visited the Continental. He dragged himself to my doorstep, handed me the ties and let me know that Leuce was tracking you."

"Is he all right?" I asked in terror.

* * *

Seeing the look of fright and concern on his Omega's face for the man whom had betrayed him, John Wick no longer felt a shred of rage. Instead he found himself sharing it as he pulled out his cell phone and dialed up Charon, whom was listed in his contacts incase Hal was in trouble. If anyone would know Winston's current state, it would be the concierge, the two men sharing an incredibly close friendship that exceeded that of simple boss and employee.

Erin had come to his side then and was holding on to his arm tightly as the phone rang several times.

When it was finally answered, Wick found himself not waiting but proceeding to immediately ask, "Charon, is Winston okay?"

"Yes," came the concierge's answer with equal speed. "He is in stable condition. It appears that Ms. Leuce was in such a rush to get to her intended target that she failed in completeing her usual high quality of work."

"That is good to hear, Charon," John said, looking down to catch Erin offering a quick prayer of thanks, having heard the good news for herself.

"It was commendable of you, Sir, for calling the ambulance when you did. They informed me that that made all the difference in the world."

"It was the least I could do for an old _friend_ ," John said, the word returning easily to his tongue now that Winston had helped in the act of protecting his mate. "Tell him that when you see him next time, will you?"

"I most certainly will, Mr. Wick."

"Also tell him...thanks," John added.

A pause. "May I tell him that the stray puppy is safe and once more being looked after?"

"Yeah," John Wick smiled down at Erin. "Yeah you can tell him that too, Charon."

"Very well. I am sure that will aid in his recovery tremendously."

And with that the call simply ended.

Plump arms wrapped around his middle and John lowered his head to find his Omega squeezing him. Tears were leaking through his shirt, as she asked, "All forgiven?"

"Yeah. All forgiven.," John said holding her back.

"That's my human hero," she whispered and John Wick kissed the top of her head.

* * *

"Ouch," I heard John unexpectedly saying after kissing the top of my head and I looked up to see him taking a shard of glass from out of his bottom lip.

"Sorry," I cringed.

"You're forgiven for that too," he joked. "We should get that out of your hair though."

"Okay."

A few minutes later, I was sitting on the edge of the bathtub with John Wick brushing the glass from my hair. After he had run the brush through it several times, he began to run his fingers through it instead, making sure nothing remained that could cut me, and I fell back against the hitman; the action felt so wonderful as did his strong chest behind me. I tilted my head back and John grabbed my upper right arm while his fingers continued their journey through my tresses. "When was the last time you washed it?" he whispered.

"A week ago," I answered.

"You went to work like this?"

"I just type up books; I'm not on display. I think Christopher knew my heart was broken and was taking it easy on me," I theorized.

"Christopher?"

"My boss."

"Oh," John Wick said, as he grabbed my chin and turned my face to face him, delivering a passionate kiss to my very thirsty lips.

* * *

Tasting the Omega's lips in his, John Wick wondered how he had ever managed to stay away from them and the woman they belonged to. They were wonderfully willing and her body was soft and full pressed against him on the tub's rim. His kiss grew more hungry and she returned it until a gasp escaped from her and he realized that he had held it too long and had become too forceful, stealing her breath. Her back was arching and the gasp turned into a moan as his hands found her blouse and started to unbutton it. He pushed her bra upwards so that he could take a handful of each large breast and squeeze them, his fingers manipulating her nipples, while the kiss he was bestowing upon the curve of her neck turned into a love bite, narrowly missing her gland.

"Oh...oh please," Erin moaned, responding to his touch, pushing her chest into the palms of his hands, rubbing them against his skin, which had missed the feel of her.

Although it took all of his strength, John stopped himself from lowering a hand to explore between the Omega's legs and answer the plaintive cry to bring her to release right there on the bathtub's edge. He grabbed her upperarms. "You've had a rough day. The bedroom."

* * *

My clitoris on fire and my thighs tingling in similar heat, I was disappointed when John took his hands from off my breasts and said, "You've had a rough day. The bedroom." Apparently, the hitman had remembered his decision not to have me when I was not in heat, I thought in regret.

I sat in unfulfilled lust and slight sorrow, telling myself that, at least, my heat would be coming again soon, as John Wick stood and lead me to the bedroom. Like a father he sat me down gently on the edge of my bed and I thought, like a child, I was about to be put to bed when John knelt begore me. His left hand grasped my still exposed right breast and sensuously held it as his lips found mine again, an act which told me that I had not been brought to bed in order to sleep in it.

"Wait," I said pushing him gently away and resting my hand on his chest. "I thought you said we weren't to do this unless..."

"I was wrong," John Wick said before kissing me passionately once more.

* * *

She had looked at him imploringly with her beautiful green-gray eyes, reminding him of his promise to himself, and John Wick had willingly found out how easily it was to betray one's self when the vow had been so foolishly self destructive to begin with. Kissing her again, his hand becoming more adoring in its admiration of her breast, John undressed his lover with his free hand, gently pushing her down on to the mattress when jacket, blouse and bra had been fully removed. Wick did not kiss her lips one single time but broke it into several kisses which eventually found their way to her chest, his mouth sucking slowly on her nipples, calling them out as she breathed in deeply, whimpering at the return of pleasure to her body, following a month's worth of deprivation. Moving lower, the man found her tummy and kissed its smooth skin, his hand already creeping like a thief between her parting thighs and underwear.

"Ohh...John," she moaned, her words making the hitman fall to his knees, his hands working busily to remove her skirt

Sliding the panties down her creamy thighs and off from her legs, John Wick replaced them with his head, his tongue entering her to find a flood of cream landing on it. It tasted far better than the bourbon he had been purchasing from the local alcohol stores, the Continental bar having stopped serving him, and he lapped it up while stimulating her clit and vagina with both tongue and lips, careful to make sure he left enough to aid later in his cock's entry. She was not in heat and there was no slick and the assassin was discovering for the first time how much lubricant her body would produce when properly stimulated. There was quite a lot of it, he realized, hearing Erin moaning and crying on the bed, while he pleasured her. With a certain peaceful contentment, John Wick remembered his lovemaking with Helen sans her own heats, how satisfying it had been in its own right, without so urgent a need and possessing a certain beautiful freedom to it.

 _"Huunh...unhhh...anhhhh,"_ the Omega was breathing heavily and he knew her climax was nearing...

* * *

I could feel my first orgasm since John's reappearance in my life arriving and heard myself making those familiar sounds of arousal. My lover's mouth was becoming familiar with me again, not that it seemed to have fogotten very much. It still knew just what to do to bring me to the pinnacle of ecstasy. His hands were on the back of my thighs suddenly, pushing them upwards and I looked down to see my Alpha's head buried into my folds as I felt him devouring me without pain but offering only physical bliss. It was too much for me; my body started to convulse madly, my cries of passion both desperate and completed. After my last spasm, as I was crying out, having been worked on so expertly, John carressed the place on my thighs where his hands rested, rubbing circles on them and I looked down to see my cream thickly covering his beard in places, like the glass had been in my hair.

Rising to his feet, John Wick started to undress. He reached into his pocket and retrieved the two ties he had tied together in order to rescue me.

"Considerate of you to give them back, but they're yours," John said, placing them on the nightstand and then adding the one he had been wearing to go with them.

"Not quite," I commented. "I was hoping if you caught my scent on them you'd come back to me."

John stared at me in almost proud amusement.

"I used one to masturbate during my last heat," I confessed shyly.

The man raised his brows and then looked at the place between my legs, where cream was leaking out onto the sheet beneath me. He turned back towards the dresser, grabbed his fresh tie and threw it onto the bed beside me.

"Show me," he instructed.

* * *

Seeing Erin's most intimate area on full display to him, hearing what she had done during their estrangement to appease her lust and seeing the tie on the stand, the Alpha had found himself unable to resist temptation.

John Wick watched in sexual excitement as the Omega grabbed the tie and brought it to rest between the valley of the legs he had just departed from. Her left hand grabbed the end of the tie closest to her vulva while the right one grabbed the part of it closest to her buttocks. She lifted the piece of clothing until it wedged into the folds of her labia and then she started to move it back and forth. Continuing to remove the rest of his suit, his eyes still on the movement, John was hynotized and turned on by the show the woman was offering him, her legs, thighs, cunt and ass the star performers as they worked around the tie. Raising his vision, John saw Erin staring at him, her eyes half lidded in bliss and her lips parted as she used his tie to arouse herself.

Suddenly possessive of her pleasure, John Wick roared as he centered himself between Erin's legs and grabbed the ends of the tie, moving it back and forth as he lowered himself on top of her. The Omega gasped as she writhed on the mattress. She was crying again and John felt his ego blooming over the fact that even with a simple object as his weapon he could bring his mate pleasure, weilding it on her body with even more skill than his sweet Omega lover had been capable of.

Only it was his _own_ weapon she was truly after.

"Use...use your cock...I...I want your cock inside of me, John Wick. My pussy misses your _dick_."

John conceded for it had missed her too.

Painfully hard since having fondled Erin in the bathroom, John Wick threw the wet tie on to the floor, stood and lowered his boxers. Grabbing his lover's legs, John swung them carefully on to the middle of the bed and parted them wide. Kneeling between them, he gave her furry mound a few kisses before using his tongue to ensure that she was still wet, the tie's fabric having not stolen all her lovely fluid. She was and John drank from her again, delighting in the little sounds she always made. She was shy, yet unabashadly hungry, audibly delighting in the ways he made love to her and this made him feel whole, the act of giving her physical release an aphrodisiac to his dick.

Which the woman had resumed her enthusiastic pleading for.

"Penis...oh please John...please God...John...p-penis...cock...oh..."

Giving her clit one last suckle, John got to his knees and rubbed his precum, not as copious as during his mate's time of heat but still impressive, all over his glans and shaft. He looked down and felt his cock twitch in his hand as he saw Erin looking at his dripping member with appreciation and love. She started to wriggle her ass on the bed, spreading herself even more in anticipation of her cunt's reunion with his member.

"Ohhhh, I missed the sight of you," she whispered.

Studying Erin lying before him, John knew that the feeling was mutual; seeing the cream dribbling between her enflamed vaginal lips, her not flat stomach, large breasts and sweet face looking at him with overwhelming love and warmth, he knew once again that if he had been too late, if Leuce had managed to take her from him forever, he would have been completely destroyed. To lose one woman loved was bad enough; to lose two was enough to break a heart irreparably to the point where it could never take another beat.

"During your next heat bond with me, Erin," he proposed. "I never want to risk losing you again...to not know where you are."

She nodded, crying and offering him a smile, close to that of a child even as her head was framed by her large breasts. "Yes. But now come inside me, John Wick. Then your cock will know for certain right where I am."

His organ agreeing whole heartedly, attested to by its continuous, drum like throbbing, imitating his other furiously beating organ, John lowered himself, aimed his phallus at her inviting hole and pushed forward, making their physical reunion complete.

* * *

Though I did not possess my flow of slick, John Wick's cock still slid in hard and smooth and unyielding. I called out his name not from pain but from the almost devastating feeling of being made whole once more after the separation from my only love. The Alpha was falling over me, careful not to cause pain but unrelenting in his own reveling in the return of my cunt being wrapped around his joyous to be welcomed back cock. His hand cupped the side of my face while our lips locked. The taste of me was still on his tongue as we kissed and he thrusted, my own body easily recalling how we moved together to form one. Up and down, John moved inside me and I moved on him with equal vigor; him bringing me to another fit of clenching while I brought him to his eventual spilling.

When both came, I rejoiced in the full experience of John's having fully come back to me, my arms wrapping around his neck and kissing him as he gave a few last thrusts for good pleasure.

"I love you," I whispered into his ear and held him closely to my breasts afterwards.

* * *

"I love you," John heard Erin's words in his ear and though he longed to repeat them, knowing and accepting now that they would only be the truth, he could find neither the strength nor the courage to. Everything he loved died; the devil or fate hated him. If he said it aloud his confession might be overheard and the Omega lying under his spent body truly taken from him.

But if he kept the feeling unspoken and only in his heart she might still be kept safe.

Instead of outright telling her he loved her, John Wick raised his head from off Erin's chest, looked into her eyes, took her face in his hands and stated, "That tie is _mine_."

Smiling and laughing, his beloved Omega kissed him in blissful consent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Being kind of silly today, Keanu, I wanted to tell you I often think of two songs with us...after some modifications that is.
> 
> First ABBA's "Knowing Me, Knowing You." Only I change it to "Not Knowing Me, Not Knowing You, is the best I can do."
> 
> Then we've got "Somewhere Out There." Those lyrics get changed to:
> 
> "Somewhere out there beneath the pale moonlight  
> Someone's not thinking of me and not loving me tonight."
> 
> Second...Can you take me on a rollercoaster one day? I've never been on one before. Although you already have, I guess, everytime I watch the latest John Wick film. ;)
> 
> Much love,  
> Erin  
> XO  
> :D <3


	25. Inside a String of Silk and an Assassin's Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Wick delivers something to the Administration building and the hospital while I share another conversation with my temporary boss.

When John Wick walked through the Administration building, all the women, whom had previously been walking here or there, writing on the chalkboard or answering the incoming calls, stopped to stare at him in silent yet complete astonishment. Previously they had started to take the appearance of the Baba Yaga in the building for granted. A previous fear and reverence had turned to complacency until the night of the Alpha's reconciliation with his Omega when they were reminded unexpectedly of the assassin's reputation.

The Administrator's receptionist even stopped what she had been doing, her eyes bulging and her mouth hanging open by the end of the receiver she was holding in her hand. She only found her voice again successfully when it was too late and Wick had burst into her boss' office before having been given the go ahead.

The little man, stamping files behind his raised desk, looked up prepared to give a prissy reprimand about time, place and propriety until he saw what John Wick was holding in his arms. John waited until the bureaucrat had fully taken in the sight before he dropped Leuce's body onto the floor. The dead woman fell, landing on her back, her bloody face aimed upwards and staring blankly at the dark room's ceiling. The Administrator peered down at the corpse of the second best assassin in his care from over over his cluttered and smokey desk.

"Tell any other assassins you have working on finding my new mate to expect similar treatment," Wick stated before turning to leave.

"Her nose...The blood...Did you do that, Mr. Wick?"

John stopped, his hand on the doorknob. Looking over his shoulder, he proudly smiled, thinking of what Erin had told him about hitting Leuce with her frying pan. "No. That was all my mate."

Leaning now even further over his desk, the little, pierced man looked appreciatively at his former employee's destroyed nose, the same one which had painted her white suit red. "Perhaps you have chosen an Omega more wisely that we had suspected," he remarked. "Your offspring could still prove useful to the Table."

John Wick turned around and opened the door. "She and I, we're not having kids," he stated bitterly as he left the small, dreary office.

* * *

I returned to the office at ErosPsyche in far better spirits the following day, a fact which didn't escape my fellow workers notice. They saw me smiling, without my even meaning to, and when I was informed that the boss wanted to see me again, I assumed Chris had already seen or been informed of my far cheerier mood. I was more than a little shocked then when I was greeted by the sight of Ivy Bunker, once more bustling around the man's office, replacing his artwork with the photographs which seemed to mean a great deal to her.

"Your mate is back, isn't he?" she stated in the form of a question.

"Yes," I said.

"He give you a good boning last night?" she inquired.

"He...umm...I..." I replied, recalling John Wick making love to me in such a fashion to have made up for the last few weeks of our mutual abstinence. My face was surely turning a shade to match what both of our privates had looked like by the time we had finished up enjoying each other.

"He did," she said, placing another photo on the office walls. "It's written on your face and that smile you've been flashing around the office. I've been hearing complaints about the glare off your teeth from my other employees since you walked in the front door."

My eyes rested on the floor, being suddenly wounded by the fact that I had been the topic of ill intentioned discussion from my coworkers behind my back. Ivy was able to read me like a book as akways. She looked at me and stated, "Fuck 'em, Erin. They complained when you were walkin' around here like a ghost too. You can't please everybody; only when you're dead so you won't bug them anymore. You got fucked out of your mind last night; they didn't. Take that to heart and just go about your business. Don't worry about being fired for smiling. That's not about to happen when your fingers are lightning. It's nice seeing you smile after having seen you be so sad for so long." the small woman shuffled away, heading back to her desk and plopping herself back in to her favorite chair. She looked at me with her french pea eyes and gave her head a small forceful nod. "You're happy. There are few other reasons, other than beauty and talent, that will make other people hate you and try everything in their power to stop. The devil will try the hardest. Enjoy what you got now and just be grateful for the happiness you have."

I smiled at her brightly. Bunker was really a kind woman despite her bristle and sharp edges. Then again roses had developed thorns to help protect themselves too. I turned to look at the photgraph she had placed on the wall and finally saw what it was of. Keeping with my flower oriented thoughts, I stared at a black and white photograph of a daisy with a ebony wasp alighted on it. Every edge was sharp of the insect while the flower was in soft focus. The photographer seemed to want to contrast the two items: that which was considered dangerous with that which was benign. It was a beautiful shot and held my gaze long enough for Ivy to notice my admiration of it.

"You like that?" she stated, her voice slightly tense.

"Yes," I replied.

"My goddaughter took that. She was partial to daisies."

If my mind had not been focused on the sudden idea that I must give John a bouquet of flowers to bring to Winston when he visited him in the hospital later that night, my mind might have afforded her statement the proper attention it deserved, along with the information which followed.

"She took all of these photos. She was a hell of a photgrapher. Truly gifted...until the devil envied her happiness too."

I turned to find Ivy studying me and I smiled at her sadly. "I'm sorry for your loss. She was truly gifted."

"Thanks," Ivy stated. "I wish that could have convinced God to let her stay with us for longer. I know her husband wished that too."

I was about to ask if the couple had had any children when the frightening secretary buzzed in that the call the temporary editor had been waiting for was on the other line. "Damnit," Ivy stated. "How come Chris leaves the country every fucking time something really unpleasant happens?" she asked me, holding the phone and shaking her head.

I couldn't give her an answer, never truly comprehending Chris' crazy schedule, so she provided one herself. "Cuz he shouldn't even be here, that's why! They stuck him here out of favor and necessity but that's about it. Man has no more knowledge of how to be a damn editor than I do on how to be a fucking dentist."

She let out one enormous sigh and then looked at me particularly frazzled. "Go girl. Type up smut and then live it for yourself when you get home if you're lucky."

I laughed happily. "Thanks Ivy."

She smiled kindly and then took her call. My mind was too busy on checking online to see what florists in New York City carried the specific flower I was hoping to send Winston to remember the photograph which had inspired me or to hear Ivy whispering under her breath, "And if he finishes his quota early for the day, as he's sure to do. Damn fucking Baba Yaga."

* * *

John climbed in through my window around eight, shortly after I had just gotten home. I had taken longer to get back to my apartment after going out of my way to get the right flowers for Winston. I could not help myself, I ran into my Alpha's arms the moment I saw him. Maybe if there had been blood on his shirt I might have been able to restrain myself.

No. Probably not.

Even if John Wick had been standing in my living room looking like Carrie White at the prom I would have gone to him and wrapped my arms around his middle, just content to have him back in my life after fearing I had lost him forever. The hitman squeezed me tightly and kissed the top of my head, obviously reciprocating the sentiment. Although John hadn't told me he loved me yet, it was in each of his actions and how he seemed to be constantly touching me, as if by his touch he could keep me protected and prove to himself that I was there.

"Hey," he greeted.

I kissed his shirted chest. "Hi," I replied, looking up into his small dark eyes. "How was your day?"

"Busy. Yours?"

"Reasonable," I answered, glowing inside at having reached a stage in John and mine's relationship to exchange queires about how our days had gone.

"I can't stay long," he said with regret. "I just wanted to say hi before I visit Winston. I wanted to ask if there was anything you wanted me to tell him."

"Wait here," I said, holding up a finger and rushing over to the kitchen counter. When I returned, I was holding a small bouquet with a note attatched to the silk string holding it all together. John eyed the flowers in amusement. "Cowslips," the Alpha stated in recognition.

"You know them!" I said in delight.

"Yeah. They grew around the house in Jersey."

I reached up and kissed his cheek. "I think Winston will get it but the card's just incase. Don't worry. There's nothing that would identify me."

"Smart."

I held the hitman, my arms finding their way around his waist again as he held onto the yellow flowers. "You sure you can't stay?"

"Only ten minutes. I made the appointment with the hospital to see Winson. The Table runs these things on a tight schedule. Maybe afterwards."

"What are the hospitals like anyway?" I inquired, knowing I'd never get to see one in person.

"The walls are painted red. It saves on the Table having to constantly repaint them."

I frowned, realizing what John was trying to get at. The frown didn't last long though as my eyes met my mate's and bathed in the unabashed affection he was staring at me with. Getting an idea, I stood on my tiptoes and brought my mouth to the ear I saw half hidden by his longish hair. "Ten minutes is still enough time," I whispered into his ear. "And besides, I haven't eaten since lunch."

John was looking at me quizzically, as my hands dipped into the backseat of his pants, finding and fondling the butt I loved and had missed so painfully much.

* * *

John was asking himself what Erin had in mind, when her hands slinked down the back of his pants and started to make a loving exploration of his backside. They knew the terrain very well by now but seemed to find their delight in rediscovering it with carresses and squeezes, all as she moved her body closer to his own and started to press against it with a free sensuality that was caused by her unashamed love and want of him. She was usually so shy, the fact that he could bring out a more uninhibited creature from her aided in the swelling of John Wick's dick, which was becoming harder the more she played with him. He watched in great delight as her eyes half shut in her own pleasure as she realized his growing arousal. Their lips were soon joined in a hungry kiss as the woman grinded herself a little more against his groin.

When the kiss had ended, Erin slowly fell down to her knees infront of him, leaving him holding on to the cowslips. She had decided to continue the offering of her lips in a more southerly destination but she teased and made him wait by running her hands slowly down the length of his body, simultaneously kissing it through the fabric of his clothes. By then, John Wick could feel his cock eagerly waiting to feel those adoring lips surrounding it and the warm, moistness of her mouth stimulating the nerves already pulsing in arousal throughout its elongnating length. When she was finally kneeling before him, her hand unzipped his fly and she pulled out his angry member, which looked like some terrible and red beast close to her sweet, pale face. His precum was pooling in the slit and he saw the Omega catching the stream on her tongue as it started to fall. Her tongue caught it like it was a pool created for the fluid. When enough had collected, she swallowed it and went, "Yum."

Soon her mouth was devouring the organ and John inhaled deeply at the beautiful return of her tongue gliding over the tip of his penis' head. It was as soft a creature as Erin herself, dancing with the part of his dick contained in her mouth. The Omega knew just the right way to suck him off, performing the act with tender care so it was not too painful and yet not too gentle either. She was hungry, drinking his member's torrent as if it could sustain her.

Releasing it, she moaned, rubbing the cock against her face, her mouth open at the underbelly of his shaft. "Your cock is a beautiful thing...so big and hard, so soft and full, John. I'd wake up trying to suck my fist when you were gone, wishing your dick was in my mouth where it belonged instead."

She eagerly returned to making out with the penis, eventually returning it to her mouth. Seeing such passion again from such a usually shy and tender woman, John groaned as he felt his blood pumping violently while his precum was matching its flow, sliding right out into Erin's mouth and down her throat. He was thrusting himself a little now as her hand started to clench and make its journeying movement up and down his shaft. Opening her eyes, Erin widened her mouth and extravagantly made a show of savoring the member, her tongue licking the shaft but ensuring its sensitive tip was properly bestowed the most attention. She started to move in the opposite direction, kissing his balls and his knot, which had emerged without his meaning it to. A large dribble of precum landed in the Omega's hair and John found his hands rubbing it into the curled strands, trying to mark her excitedly.

Erin looked up at him with her green-gray eyes, innocent even though she was sucking his cock and doing it with bold relish and John felt his balls tightening as he readied himself for orgasm. Erin placed more of him within her and he felt his penis hit the back of her throat which started his spilling as she pushed it deeper in. Her hands grabbed his ass once again as she fed off him and John pictured his seed filling her stomach, answering her hunger. Once completely spent, Erin slipped the cock out of her mouth and he saw some of his fluid at the corner or her smiling mouth.

"You filled my tummy up good, John Wick," she cooed, her voice slightly garbled from his ejaculation, which had coated her throat and made it somewhat husky.

"I know I forgave Winston but I may have to reconsider," he commented, wiping his precum from off her pretty lips.

"Why?" Erin asked.

"For making me not be able to stay and repeat that act lower in that big, beautiful body of yours," he confessed, petting her now damp hair.

"There will be plenty of time for that," she whispered, rubbing her face against the shaft of his now satisfied member and kissing it. "I'll be right here and my heat is coming soon."

John Wick brought his hands, still holding the simple flowers which had witnessed his Omega's oral pleasuring of him, around to the woman's head where he held her against him.

* * *

Winston sat in his hospital bed, his gown of red, matching walls painted crimson and reading the daily paper, which stood out like a bandage on Satan's knee. His eyes lit up when he saw John coming with the small bouquet and he placed the paper down on his red bedsheets. "Jonathan," he said in a voice that sounded as if each word was painful.

"Don't talk," John Wick said. "I just came to say thank you in person."

"I'll talk if I bloody well want to," Winston stated defiantly. "No witch in white can stop me."

"I hand delivered her remains to administration."

The Continental manager clasped his hands together in wicked delight. " _Marvelous_."

John Wick handed Winston the bouquet of cowslips. "A mutual friend wanted me to give these to you."

Winston took the flowers with an air of assumed reserve but there was a happy little glint in his eyes and John found himself getting a little jealous again, despite thinking he'd gotten over that one emotion. It was obvious Winston had a very large fond spot for the chubby, little Omega and his Alpha possessiveness was taking territorial note of it. The hitman found himself reading the note Erin had written on the card from over the hotel manager's shoulder.

_Where the bee sucks, there suck I:_   
_In a cowslip's bell I lie;_   
_There I couch when owls do cry._   
_On the bat's back I do fly,_   
_After summer merrily_   
_Merrily, merrily shall I **live** now_   
_Under the blossom that hangs on the bough._

Johm immediately identified it from the Tempest, a play by Shakespeare the Director had once had them perform as a ballet. It had been his first performance actually.

"Why that's my dainty Ariel!" Winston managed to say and placed the note to his heart. "I'm glad you saved her, Jonathan."

"Me too," John said, horrified at the possibility that he may not have. He studied the older man. "Thank you, Winston. I can never repay you."

The Englishman smiled almost smugly. "How times have changed," he mused.

"Get better," John said and headed for the door, having said all he felt was safe inside of the Table run facility, one where every room was likely under surveillance .

Winston still apparently had enough mischief left inside him to want to poke at bee's nests, however, before his visitor's departure. "If only I was a younger man...this Prospero would have fancied giving you a little bit of competition, John Wick."

The assassin stopped in the doorway and turned to face the man. "And you would fail, Winston. But just so you know: your dainty Ariel...she sucks _very_ well. Even while I was still holding that bouquet of cowslips in my hands.

Winston's blue eyes grew large as his brows raised in demure surprise. "Why Jonathan Wick," he stated in his prim uppercrust British accent. "Did you just lower yourself for a bit of base locker room talk?"

"Just a reminder of whom your Ariel has pledged herself too," the Alpha grunted.

Winston pouted in his hospital bed. "Well if you ever wish to write a lurid memoir, which I beg of you _not_ to do, I'm sure ErosPsche would be in a hurry to publish the filth."

"Is it still in operation?"

"I'm afraid so."

John cringed. ErosPsyche was a High Table run publishing house that focused on pornography. It also served as a front for the Table's more sexually exploitative ventures, something which had never sat well with the then editor. "Is Ivy still there?" the hitman asked

A guarded look clouded Winston's eyes. "Yes but she was replaced months ago as the editor. A move that didn't sit well with her, I assure you."

On the verge of asking who ran it now, John Wick stopped himself. He hated the company, always had. The only reason he had ever paid it any attention was Helen's link to Ivy Bunker. Now it was hardly important whom worked there in any position: be it transcriber or Editor-in Chief.

"Be seeing you, Winston," John bade his goodbye, hoping he could return to Erin's and be granted his previous desire to fill up her womb with his seed before returning to the Continental.

"You too, Jonathan," Winston said, gently placing the cowslips in a vase filled with flowers, which had likely been sent by Charon.

John Wick left the hospital, heading back to the apartment of the Omega he was increasingly proud to have been the one to deflower, looking forward to another night of making love to her and thanking God that the Omega worked far away from a place as dangrous as ErosPsyche.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Keanu,
> 
> Listening to Loreena Mckennitt's rendering of Tennyson's "The Lady of Shalott" some questions/thoughts occur to me:
> 
> 1\. Being from Toronto where Mckennitt busked, did you ever see her in your youth?
> 
> 2\. Can I be your Lady of Shalott? A woman whom admires a man she never meets. Can I love you from afar? Would you think I had a lovely face and beg God to lend me grace, should you perchance ever see me? I need a lot of that.
> 
> Much love,  
> Erin  
> XO  
> :D <3


	26. Surrounded by Blood Within His Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Wick and I both suffer attacks of conscience about our work.

Even though John came often now to see me without the reason of my being in heat, he did not come _every_ night. Nor did we make love in some fashion big or small whenever he did. He was still an assassin at heart, though he had stolen mine, and saw things in terms of risk and odds. He was also still under the High Table's control, and though they had feigned a certain indifference following Leuce's death, he still could not completely trust that they weren't trying to learn of my identity and whereabouts. So on days he felt that he was being followed, by either fellow assassin or High Table stooge, he would not permit himself to see me. On other days, when he was more confident, we'd end up in the bedroom, or anywhere else, stealing a few minutes of lovemaking before he knew it was time to head on back to the Continental.

One night, I lay naked on the bed, where the sheets were still damp with our sweat, watching as John sat at the bottom of it, putting on his shoes. We were both smiling to ourselves and I saw in the hitman's grin all the words he couldn't find the strength to actually tell me. Having my own insecurities and bad experiences with fate, I knew why John couldn't find the power to tell me those three words that carried the weight of one syllable a piece. He had already lost the woman he had said them to before, having to watch her slowly die until the day the choice had been made to turn off the life support which had been keeping her breathing. Suffering with my OCD, I knew how badly and easily the brain could be conditioned. Now John associated love with pain and loss; he wasn't about to risk losing the woman he had found to help fill that missing piece of his heart Helen had taken when a machine had been switched off. It didn't really matter though. People said a hundred words they never truly meant to each other every day. It was only what was felt inside of the soul and heart that was worth a damn. And what John felt for me was continually written on his usually blank face or strong body these days. A sparkle of amusement or adoration contained in his dark eyes, the gentle stroking of his thumb on my cheek, the curl on his lips as there was now while he straighted his tie.

He turned to find me studying him and we stared at one another happily before his large hand found my equally large and naked ass and began to stroke it. "How long till your heat?" he asked.

"Not long now," I replied. "I should be cramping soon."

"Good," John said, carressing my bottom and staring at it affectionately before patting it twice.

When he took his hand away with some reluctance, I rolled over on to my back and looked at him while he immediately slid over towards me. Lowering his head, I lifted my own and met him half way, our lips joining effortlessly. Each of my hands found and rested gently on his shoulders while John's hands grasped my face, our kiss growing more passionate. We parted lips but my Alpha's hands remained on my cheek as my own stayed on his shoulder.

"I love you," I told him again before he would leave me, heading off into a world where men killed each other when deals soured or lines had been crossed and rules broken.

His thumb moved to the lips that had said those three simple words and traced them softly with the gentlest care, attempting to absorb them into his skin.

And there it was again...

John Wick telling me he loved me.

* * *

John once more was back at Aurelio's chop shop. He was picking up the Mustang, having received word from the mechanic that the repairs had been made after its colliding with the pole. The man was staring at him, half in feigned disapproval while the other half was completely a hundred percent genuine.

"I'm warning you, John, you bring this beauty into me one more time, with so much as a bug squashed on her windshield, and I'm taking her away from you on charges of reckless endangerment. Helen would side with me."

"Probably," Wick replied back. "How much do I owe you?"

"You owe me about a thousand free hits for returning her so soon after last time but I'll let you off the hook for having the balls and audacity to do it. Not to mention the loyalty, seeing as though you coulda taken her elsewhere without fear of a lecture."

"Thanks," John said. "But nobody beats your quality. A lecture is worth it."

"Appreciated, John," Aurelio sighed and the hitman noticed for the first time the deep lines of worry and traces of fatigue on his friend's face.

"Are you all right?" he asked in concern.

"Yeah...fine...just fine," Aurelio sighed and then instantly took the lie back. "Nah, I'm not. The Table...they are really going straight to Hell..."

"Where did you think they were going?" John Wick joked.

"Yeah," the mechanic laughed. "But honestly...they are seriously losing control. There are so many other shops popping up now that most of the original members of the Table are dying out...Quality is being replaced by quantity and some of the newer companies are using force that would have been strictly forbidden in the old days...our days, John. Honestly, the Table is losing control and the Elder is doing shit to put it right and everyone in their fucking place. Chaos...now we have fucking chaos."

John nodded. The way that things were quickly falling into disorder was perfectly displayed by the contrast in temperament and personalities of the two departed Tarasovs. While Viggo Tarasov had possessed a full knowledge and respect for the rules enforced by an organization that, though it existed by crime and violence, still understood the necessity of order. His son, on the other hand, had no respect for anything except for himself and his own needs and desires. Maybe it had been Viggo's own fault, John Wick thought. When he had worked for the crime boss he had rarely encountered his employer's only child, the boy being sent often away to schools outside of the city or left with hired help, whom hadn't given a damn about him. It was probably the contributing factor to why the boy hadn't recognized him as his father's _helper_ when they had met outside the gas station. And while he had been left on his own, yet spoiled with every possible comfort to make up for it, Iosef Tarasov had been turned into a monster whom had learnt to care only for himself.

"We need new management," Aurelio commented. John watched as the mechanic's eyes slowly rested on him. "We need someone like _you_ , John Wick."

"I don't think so," John said with smirk.

"No," the chop shop owner said. "I'm serious. You have both the reputation and the experience of being in the business...you have command, intelligence and the fucking guts and instincts. You'd do a fuckin' deal better than some guy half a world away."

"They don't exactly hold elections for the position, Aurelio," John Wick stated as he opened the Mustang's door.

"They should," Aurelio spat walking towards the rolled down window on the passenger's side. "Then maybe we could return to the well ordered system of crime and violence that worked for us before."

"You said I owed you a thousand free hits, want to call any in?" the Baba Yaga offered.

"Would your new mate like that?"

John thought of Erin and how lucky he had been having her accept him despite the fact that his job was to take human lives. If he started doing it now as friendly favors, it would probably be pushing things. "No. I don't think so."

"Good girl," Aurelio commented. "I really hope I can meet her someday."

"Me too," the Alpha returned, starting the car and driving back to the Continental.

* * *

The first preheat cramp hit me while I was typing up a manuscript at ErosPsyche, one which was making me sick already to begin with. The stories I had been given to type up recently had been pornographic but nothing that I couldn't handle. This, however, was the most vile and misogynistic manuscript that had ever crossed my desk and when I reached a scene involving the murder of a woman whom had just been assaulted sexually by three men, I was grateful for the cramp which gave me a reason to go and see Ivy and voice my rage.

Walking into her office, I had to wait a few seconds to talk to her while she finished up a phone call. Settling the phone down, she looked at me and muttered, "Preheat?"

"Err...yes."

"I could tell by the way you're holding your side and the pissed off look in your usually timid, big eyes."

"No, that's because of _this_ ," I stated and threw the folder with the putrid work on to the temporary editor's desk.

"They gave you a red folder one?" she asked, seemingly in distress.

"Yes..." I said. "Why? What does that mean?" I had thought the difference in colors between folders had been just another result in the changes to the company. Now I suspected something more insidious. 

Bunker sighed, took off her big glasses and pinched the bridge of ger nose. "Chris and I told them _explicitly_ that you were not to be given those ones. Musta been a new guy."

"Is there more of that filth?" I asked.

"It's all filth; that's what we deal in," she said and when her green eyes met mine, I saw a coldness in them that froze my blood. It belonged to the same type of necessary detatchment and icy blooded veins that I had seen when John had thought I had betrayed him or when he had been hunting Leuce in my apartment's attic.

"You know what I mean," I whispered. "That...that was...that was pandering to _monsters_."

"We're under new management," the older woman replied with a jolting return to her humanity. "That means the company has been told to _widen_ its audience. We knew that would upset you, Ms. Smyth, so we've been giving you the safer ones to type up."

I stumbled where I stood for a second and swallowed hard enough to feel as if my uvula had received whiplash. My mind raced to unpleasant thoughts of what could be inside the red folders I had seen being casually held by co-workers whom didn't seem bothered in the least to handle their transcription.

"Do you want to quit, Erin?" she asked, even more kindly. "I understand if you do. I am less than thrilled about the change, as well. ErosPsyche is my home, though. I can't leave. But I assure you, if you stay, you will never be forced to type up another piece of revolting trash. At least, while I am here."

"What about Chris?" I asked. "Would _he_ make me type it up?"

Ivy perched her spectacles back on her nose. "Chris' motivations are mostly his own. Right now the thing occupying his mind most is revenge."

"Against whom?"

"Somebody that took the one thing he loved from him," Ivy said, staring at me. "You know maybe you _should_ leave, after all," she suddenly stated, a certain fear flashing in her eyes for a brief second.

I thought about the suggestion for more than just one, however. Leaving seemed wise. Still with my OCD, GAD and AVPD it also terrified me. Having to start over again, meet new people and struggle to make ends meet were all prospects I was horrified of. It was too difficult, while staying at a publishing company I was already familiar with and had my routine set seemed so wonderfully comfortable and easy.

"I'll stay," I said.

The little woman looked close to firing me but stopped with a sigh. "We're all in the same boat, at least. Maybe all that and our affections will be enough to stop him from doing anything rash," she added more enigmatically.

"I will NOT finish that," I said, knowing she was talking about Chris and throwing a glance to the manuscript.

Ivy tossed it in the wastebasket by her desk.

"Won't the new owners wonder what happened to it?" I asked Ivy.

"Let them shoot the imbecile who gave it to you in the first place," she stated coldly once more.

I nodded and left, mistakenly believing she was only joking.

* * *

On the drive back to New York City, John Wick came across no more deer but was once more haunted by thoughts the mechanic had jumpstarted inside of his mind. He too had noticed a decided shift in the sensibilities of the underworld since he had returned and he recollected the father and son he had sent off both to their judgements. Perhaps he had been too cold in his own condemnation of the elder Tarasov. In his way, Viggo might have believed he was protecting Iosef by keeping him at a distance until he could better fend for himself. Living inside the world that they all had, you were only as ever safe as how few the number of people you had pissed off was. And Viggo Tarasov had antagonized quite a few, John knew, from before his favored assassin had retired and married a beautiful photographer named Helen.

The Alpha remembered his very short discussion with the Administrator about his not having children. It was true. He could never put Erin through giving birth to the Baba Yaga's child. Nor would he punish the child, for that matter. How would he fare any better than Viggo Tarasov had? Not while he was living under the Table's command and where he was only a slave, John thought. Bringing one into the world of the High Table when it was under such dangerous disarray was also selfish. If his sweet Omega and he had any hope of raising a child and having it turn out better than Iosef Tarasov did, John Wick understood, he would need to do something as drastic as taking down the Elder first, as Aurelio had suggested. That in itself seemed suicidal and counter productive to the child's survival, though.

The rules stated that if any one individual decided to overthrow the Elder they and their whole family and bloodline, save for one, were to be executed.

John Wick realized he was living proof of that harsh and terrible punishment.

* * *

I wasn't prepared for the sad look John was wearing when he climbed in my window. He sat on the sill, having drawn the curtains shut behind him, looking miserable. My own mood not exactly great following my discovery of what ErosPsyche was turning into, I was even more heartbroken to see that my mate's day had possibly been worse.

"Hey," I said, falling to my knees infront of him and placing my hands on his thighs. "What happened? Is Hal, Winston and Charon okay?" I knew that the Continental manager had been released a few days ago but feared a complication had occured.

"They're fine," John Wick stated.

"What is it?"

"Erin...we're not having children but...do you think that I would have been a good father?"

There I had been worried in my own way how I could explain to any child, that wasn't very likely to show up in the first place, about why I had chosen to stay at a company that published the worst type of entertainment when John had been plagued by his own similar pains somewhere miles away. We may not have been bonded yet but our souls seemed sadly in tune that one day regardless of the fact.

I hugged the man's knees and kissed one of their hill like tops. "The best, John Wick," I answered and rested my chin where my kiss had been given.

"I kill people for a living," he stated, holding the side of my face. "The blood I have spilt could fill this apartment building."

Such confessions bothered me almost as much as they obviously troubled my Alpha. Every night before falling asleep, I asked God to forgive my lover for what he did each day, things he kept hidden away from me. I worried for the fate of his soul, wanting it to be inside paradise with Helen and myself, if I was blessed enough to be there. "Not because you wanted to, John," I said, kissing his thumb. "And even then...not because they didn't deserve it or that you weren't making the world a better place somehow."

"A better place," he repeated. "I know how to do that but I don't have the strength."

I looked at him in question, not knowing what he meant, and John Wick ran his fingers gently through my hair while he explained. "Above the High Table sits a man with power over all: the Elder. Kill him and you become the next in command."

My mouth remained closed, not mentioning the fact that Winston had already told me a little of the man, in the desert, my Alpha had once sought absolution from.

"But to kill him carries a severe penalty," John continued, a haunted look in his beautiful brown eyes. "Death to everyone connected to the guilty, except for one child from the bloodline. When I was a child my father attempted it..."

"Oh John," I cried and held his bearded face in my hands.

"One day they came to my tribe, the Ruska Roma, in Belarus...sometimes I still hear the screams...men, women, children, animals butchered...everyone except for a single child: me."

I was crying, tears running down my cheeks while John's eyes remained too haunted to shed a single tear.

"I know I should go and kill the Elder, the son of the man who killed my people, Erin...Make the world a better place," he confessed his voice thick with pain. "But everytime I think of it, I become a small boy again, left alone, sitting in a river of my own family's blood. I can still feel it hot compared to the snow underneath it. And now I feel your blood instead."

I rose to one knee to kiss the hitman. Though the kisses were tender, ones born to comfort, not to entice lust, we soon fell to the floor together, our lips locked again.

"I can't risk losing you," John Wick said, lying over me and brushing my hair out of my face.

"You won't," I promised.

"Helen told me the same thing," he whispered. "We talked about growing old together...of having children. We can't have those either, Erin."

I nodded. Although, I wanted to bear John's children I understood his fears and knew it was a near impossibilty anyway, my Doctor already having informed me years ago that my weight would cause a problem if I ever wanted to conceive. "You're enough for me, John," I told him.

He stared into my eyes, seeing something inside of them which seemed to calm his soul, yet concurrently stir his ardour, before his lips were drawn to mine once more. We started to make love on the floor between my kitchen and living room, another painful preheat cramp seizing me, warning me that my body was preparing itself for my Alpha's savage and pleasing attempts to make me with child, a goal my body was hungering for, though my mate's soul did not desire that particular outcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Keanu;
> 
> I had really been hoping to buy a ticket for "Bill & Ted Face the Music" even if I couldn't go and see it due to my extreme shyness. I wanted to show support. But it wasn't playing in my area and tickets weren't available just yet. Then I read reviews and read something that bothered me. I didn't like that Bill and Ted were changed from having sons to having daughters and, well, the other thing that was changed from the first two films just about broke my heart.
> 
> As a woman, can I say, it never bothers me that Bill and Ted had two sons or were two *men* that saved the world? Men *can* be heroes and good and decent. The first two films always showed that and it was most excellent!
> 
> I still love you, though, and Alex, Chris and Ed. So instead of buying a ticket to a film I can't see or support since it will hurt the validity of the two prior films I love, I donated in all of you guys' honor to CHEO in Ottawa. It was only $15, which equals $3.75 per each of you righteous dudes, but it's still something and they need the money. Drives are down due to COVID-19.
> 
> I hope you understand. And I still love you so much.
> 
> Much love,  
> Erin  
> XO XO  
> :D <3


	27. Under the Sky of Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Wick encounters an old friend now turned enemy and I suffer a bad dream.

After they had made love on the floor of the apartment, Erin had informed him that her preheat was a day, if not hours, away. John had known it already, sensing it in the sweat appearing on his Omega's body during their joining and almost feeling it in the simple trembling of her body.

The Alpha had reached under the woman's top to stroke her round stomach, wondering at the way everything hidden beneath the smooth skin was working towards trying to make her pregnant with his child. The whole roles and eternal dance between Omega and Alpha were mostly designed for procreation and survival. Some fell in together to simply satisfy each other's needs. While other times, more selfish and sadistic Alphas took what they wanted without care for their Omega mate. The body held dominance. It was in the bonding that the soul managed to overwhelm the physical.

Petting the tummy under his hand, John was seized by a sudden impatience to bond with Erin and unite their souls. Though the Table had placed him in a position where he was forced to stay away from his Omega, the assassin knew that once a soul bond was established between them he could at least communicate with her inside of his mind. Staring at the younger woman's large eyes gazing into his own, while she stroked his cheek with the same love and tenderness his own fingers were bestowing upon her, John wanted to tell Erin how much she had come to mean to him. The words were on the tip of his tongue and he was on the verge of confessing that after months of devastation and desolation following Helen and Daisy's death, he finally felt as if his heart was mending; that he had found his healing in her eyes, in her touch and the sweet, kind understanding she had freely given to him, although, he had not always shown it in return.

Above all else, John Wick wanted to be able to express to her how much he truly had come to love her.

Erin's eyes probing the depths of his for some answer to his thoughts, she continued the circular movement of her thumb on his cheek as she asked, "What are you thinking, John?"

"Nothing," John Wick replied and kissed her soft forehead.

* * *

The day after my first cramp, preparing my tub for my nesting, I was halfway to the bathroom, arms filled with blankets, when the phone rang. Suffering from more insistent cramps, I bustled over to the noisy object and managed to pick up the receiver, keeping my hold on the bundle. "Erin speaking," I answered.

"Hi, girl, I heard you were going in to heat again," Christopher's instantly recognizable voice stated. "Your mate ready to handle it?"

"He will be," I replied with a smile the man could not see over the landline.

"Good, good," he said. "Look, Ivy told me about you getting a hold of a red folder..."

The true reason for the call suddenly became crystal clear. My boss hardly ever phoned me at my apartment. He was usually pleased with my work and we rarely had disagreements. Our whole relationship was warm and comfortable but our friendship found its fulfillment in the office and did not include off hour conversations online or over the phone. Chris was fairly quiet in his own way and carried scars that seemed to have made him distance himself from others. He was similar to John and myself in this respect. I found myself suddenly wishing that I could introduce the two men, sure that if they could only overlook the fact that they were both dominant Alphas they could become great friends.

"I'm sorry about that, Erin," he apologized. "I'll fire whoever made the mistake as soon as I get back to the office."

"No, don't do that" I said, hating to think I had cost somebody their job, forgetting entirely about Bunker's worse remark regarding murder. "So where did they send you off to now?"

"Actually, I'm still in New York," my boss informed. "I have to check in to see what they are after this time.I just wish they would have kept their damn noses out of ErosPsyche. It used to be okay...things are changing all around, I guess."

"If I could hug you now I would. How about when you get back?"

"Sure your Alpha wouldn't be too pissed off?"

I thought it over. John knew that I was head over heals and wholeheartedly in love with devoted to him alone, especially after all we had been through with Winston. Besides, if he knew that Christopher was going through the same grief and mourning he had, I was sure he would not object but sympathize with the man instead. "No. John's good," I said before even realizing I had used my Alpha's Christian name.

"John? That his name?"

The bundle of blankets fell from my hand, landing softly on the floor; the phone almost joined them as I realized my horrible mistake. Shaking, I tried to steady my hand and voice as I replied. "Yes...his name is John."

There was silence long enough for the hairs across my body to stand up and for me to curse myself for having been so forgetful and unmindful. Then Christoper laughed brusquely and commented casually, "That's a pretty common name. Are you sure he gave you his _real_ one?"

"Well, the last one's not Doe or Smith," I joked, adopting a lighthearted attitude that I did not truly feel. "It's Ramone." Another beat before I asked, "Have you ever heard of him? He's a broker."

"No," he replied. "But maybe I'd know the face. It's a big city but you never can tell. Look, I gotta go, girl."

"Bye Chris," I said. "Thanks for checking in."

"No problem. And I won't forget about that hug. See you at the office when I get back."

The sound of the call ending and then the following dial tone greeted me. Cramping still pretty badly, I picked up my fallen blankets lying in a pile by my feet. The urge to nest was almost painfully strong then, no doubt, worsened by being fully aware that I had accidentally said John's name. Although, I hadn't included his true surname, which could have been fatal, I still couldn't shake the feeling that this was bad in itself and I had stepped on ice containing a crack I could not yet see.

I calmed myself, as I resumed my trek back to my waiting bathtub, telling myself it was only Chris, at least.

* * *

John Wick stepped off the elevator with Hal. The hitman was on his way to see Winston in order to make sure that the manager was settling back in at the Continental. He also wanted to warn him about Leuce's allusions to the High Table not having truly forgiven either of them for declaring war. It had been something John had been keeping from the Englishman while he was at the hospital, but a concern he thought it better that the man know of now that he was getting better. His eyes glancing around the lobby in a usual assassin bred act of observation, John's eyes fell on an individual he had not expected to ever see again.

Or rather had _hoped_ he never would.

Cassian stood in the lobby of the Continental, talking to someone on his phone, and remained oblivious to the appearance of his enemy in the vicinity. If there wasn't a no business rule, John Wick knew that the man would be instantly trying to kill him. The guns would have been drawn, punches would have been thrown and kicks would have been subsequently flying. Not that the Baba Yaga could blame him. He had, afterall, been responsible for the death of the woman the bodyguard had loved more than anything and had been assigned to protect: Gianna D'Antonio.

Unintentionally hearing the man finishing up his conversation, catching the promise of an embrace, John Wick thought that maybe Cassian had started to finally manage to put his own life back together again, just as he had.

Cassian's own skills apparently still in effect, Wick watched as the bodyguard quickly spun around the moment the call had ended, aware that somebody was behind him. The moment the man saw him, John watched his former friend's anger in no way lessen but rather increase.

"So," John Wick stated. "You've found a new mate, I take it."

Cassian shut his phone down and placed it inside of the gray jacket of his suit before turning to fully face him. "She's sweet but really not my type. I like my women hard as the claws they weild. You know that though. Her, she's soft like a cloud," The erstwhile bodyguard's gaze suddenly appraised him in contempt. "You'd probably like her though. Her smile's like Helen's. Good thing she's already got a mate or else you'd spoil it just like you did your wife's."

The insult was a bullet, the type safe enough to use within the hotel's consecrated walls, and it hit John Wick right where Cassian had intended. Still he tried his best to ignore the swift guilt provoked inside of him concerning Helen's death and the coinciding fear of losing Erin now as well.

"I have a mate," John replied.

"So I've heard," the black man snickered. "The Table's offering quite the incentives to find her...Me, well, I'd give her to them for free. Remember: an eye for an eye, John."

Hal looked instantly at his master's clenching fists and up at the hitman as he asked dangerously through gritted teeth, "How's the heart?"

Cassian flinched but only for a second. "I survived. You'll live long enough to regret that."

Both killers glared at one another in the lobby until a voice cut between them bringing an abrupt end to the staring match.

"GENTLEMEN!" the Administrator stated as he walked across the room. Although the bureaucrat was short in stature, each step betrayed that he saw himself as taller than either of the two men a breath away from killing each other. "Need I remind you of your fealty to the Table and how seriously they hold the laws established for this sacred structure. You, Mr Wick, are familiar above anyone else with them, I assume."

"I was just going to talk to management," John replied coldly, his eyes never leaving Cassian. "When I stopped to say hello to an old friend."

"Fine," the Administrator returned. "The Table is glad you have mended your relationship with Mr. Winston also. We must remember, in these times, that we are all family."

John Wick did not ask how the High Table had known about his reconcilliation with the Englishman. The hospital where Winston had healed was theirs, after all. A quick check of the visitors list and a playback of the security tapes would have revealed that they had repaired their broken friendship. Looking into the eyes behind the Administrator's glasses, John Wick could tell that the bureaucrat's words were false. Neither the Table nor he were pleased by this sudden turn of events; they remained fearful of another dire act of insubordination.

Instead of saying another word, though, Wick simply chose to walk away.

"Hey John," Cassian called out.

When John Wick turned, he saw the other Alpha viewing him with complete and absolute hatred "Be seeing you," Cassian stated. "And your Omega. That's a promise."

Feeling his blood chilled, John turned around and continued his journey to the Continental manager's office, wishing he could hire a guard to further keep Erin safe, but knowing that the only one he had ever truly held much faith in had already failed at his post once before and had become his greatest current enemy because of this fact.

* * *

The book I chose to place in the window after a heat which had come and gone without knowing John Wick's tending to it was appropriate. I removed a book of fairy tales from off of my book shelf, and clutching it to my heart, brought it over to the window. The Alpha had made my own life feel like one when he had chosen me for his Omega, one he would be bonding with now too. I placed it carefully in the window and paused a moment to look out at the alleyway.

Although the cramps were still bad as I walked back to the tub, I knew they would fade and John Wick would soon be with me. When you knew what was coming would bring more happiness than the momentary pain you were feeling, than anything could be suffered.

Crawling into my nest, I closed my eyes and waited.

Falling asleep, I believed that my choice of books had deeply influenced my dreams.

I was in a desert, the sand was on fire above a pitch black sky with a thousand stars and a single planet hanging inside its seeming void. The stars were gold and the moon was red. Beneath that orb of blood, I was sitting on a rug which imitated the sky above me. Ebony was the wool it had been woven of, interspersed with a scattering of yellow. On a circle embroidered of crimson, on a symbol for that blood red moon holding court in the sky, I sat dressed in an Arabian dress of royal blue. My stomach was round but even more so than my usual weight. A child was within, kicking in fright, and I placed my hands to my belly, trying to calm the baby inside of me.

John Wick's child inside of me.

 _"JOHN!"_ I cried out, a scream inside of my mind, beckoning my Alpha to me, for someone was drawing nearer from behind and I understood he held no good intent for either mother or babe.

 _"I will find you,"_ I heard my mate replying inside of my mind as I soon saw a tall, familiar, black suited figure coming towards me. He walked with solemn intent through the sands of fire, consumed by his sole need to reach me and our unborn child.

The Alpha, close to reaching the tapestry on the desert floor, one resembling space and stars and moon, began to run and when his foot landed on the black now beneath us both, I felt as if we were falling in space, stars descending forever around us like rain. I extended my arm, reaching out desperately for John Wick's own hand grasping towards mine now, our bodies imitating one another just as the rug imitated the sky above. Before the assassin's fingers could reach mine, the figure at last arrived behind me. I saw the shadow of a sword in the woven moon beneath my knees being raised above my head and brought down swiftly towards me as my mate started to call my name aloud...

"ERIN!"

Pain seared through my mind as I tried to scream his own and failed.

I was crying and being gently shaken awake, opening my eyes to see that I was not in the desert at all but simply in my bathtub with John Wick looking down at me as he grasped both my shoulders. My cheeks were wet and I knew that I had been crying in reality just like I had been in my dream at the moment of death.

John looked at me with concern and I saw that he had dropped the book of fairy tales on the bathroom floor.

"A nightmare," I said. "I was having a nightmare."

Comforting arms wrapped around me and John Wick crooned. I held him in return, weeping quietly against his chest at the horrible strength of something that had only been a dream. "It's okay," John continued to whisper into my ear but the disquiet did not leave until the first flow of slick made its welcomed appearance and sexual need overwhelmed any fear and unease.

"John...it's time," I said and the Alpha quickly pulled me out of the tub and into the safety of his hungered embrace, warm lips driving the fiery desert and the blood red moon completely from my mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darn. I am so upset I couldn't get the Kickstarter option to appear in Keanu Reeves' comic book BRZRKR. But it was $2500 US! Even if I had that type of money I couldn't spend it on something selfish like that and feel good about it. :/ Maybe I'll just draw a pic of me in it sometime and play pretend. Sigh.
> 
> Forgive me if I do that Keanu. I may also draw a pic of Johnny Silverhand and myself to go with my Cyberpunk 2077 story because it would look silly with a butterball/chubbette like myself. :D <3


	28. Inside (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Wick and I become soul bonded to each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally reached that flashforward from the first chapter...

He had heard Erin begin to cry, presumably from her place in the bathtub, by the time he had reached the window to take the book of fairy tales from it. He rushed into the bathroom, that same book in one hand and his gun ready in the other. It did not take much to make John Wick frightened but hearing his mate crying in such distress succeeded in terrifying him to a state where his heart almost stopped. But stopped hearts and fear were useless for the woman and whatever she was suffering, so the Alpha placed both to the side, intending never to have to deal with either for he would manage to save his lover from whatever danger she was in.

In relief, Wick discovered that the danger was no more than a nightmare as he opened the bathroom door and found Erin crying and struggling alone in her nest in the tub. Seeing her in such obvious desperation, though, the Alpha's concern flared again and he wished to save her from the thankfully vaporous threat of a bad dream.

"ERIN!" he shouted, dropping the book onto the floor and placing the gun inside his pants.

She continued to make chilling cries in the grip of her sleep while tears were escaping past the thick lashes of her closed eyes. The Omega's weeping was desperate and loud, yet no banging on the walls came over the Omega's vocal fright and pain. Her neighbours obviously reserved their interference only for when their own comfort was disturbed. It was the sounds of two people making love which unnerved them more than cries of violence. Grabbing Erin by her shoulders and gently shaking her awake and saving her from her current discomfort or fantasy, John Wick wished that he could save her equally from the coldness of the indifferent humans which would surround her after her eventual awakening.

Erin's eyes suddenly opening wide in terror, beautiful orbs of green and gray stared into his own eyes. They were wet with tears waiting to be shed and filled with her dawning awareness that what she had suffered was only a dream.

"A nightmare," she said. "I was having a nightmare."

John Wick held his Omega lover to him, wishing to soothe her with the knowledge that he was flesh and blood and made of things more real than the dream which had terrified her. Her unshed tears now found their release against his shirt, and the cloth accepted them as he crooned to her. "It's okay," he repeated steadily, knowing from her trembling that she was still lost to the horror of her nightmare. It was only when her body gave one small shake that seemed different that Erin seemed to lose some of her fright.

His nostrils flaring, John smelled the scent of slick and his hands clenched as his cock gave a selfish twitch, so at odds with his current altruistic act of trying to comfort his mate. He cradled her gently, his body wanting to take her but holding back until the Omega was fully ready.

"John...it's time," she whispered.

John Wick waited no longer. Instantly he lifted her from the tub and placed her on his lap, which quickly became soaked in her slick. He wrapped her safely and tightly in his arms, his lips meeting hers in a way that was too hungry to be completely tender. She accepted the force of his kiss, however, returning it while more slick exited from her and soaked through his trousers to finally meet his impatient cock. His right hand broke half his hold on the Omega to crawl under her nightshirt and feel her furiously spilling opening, the endeavour aided by her lack of underwear. At his touch, the woman moaned into his mouth and then threw her head back. The Alpha's lips went to the presented throat to kiss it and he felt her next word along with hearing it.

"Here!" she cried in need, her cunt clenching around the fingers he had buried inside of it.

He placed her gently on the bathroom tiles, her head resting against the book of fairy tales as if it were a square, hard pillow. The look of want in her half lidded and now free of tears eyes, made his erection throb even more insistently. As he began to undo his pants to set it free, the gun fell to the floor.

"Was that a gun in your pocket, John Wick, or are you happy to see me?" she asked coyly.

"Both," John smiled, pulling his pants down.

Erin's eyes viewed his dripping phallus in appreciation. She spread her legs and brought a foot to the penis raised before her and began to stroke it with the balls of her small and pretty feet. "It's nice but this is the gun, I prefer," she cooed. 

John moaned in blissful delight, her toes soft and stimulating the underside of his dick. Precum spurted out from it in gratitude and dropped between her toes, which wriggled in delight.

"Make love not war," she quoted, thrusting her chest upwards and John felt another wave of his fluid unleashed, further coaxed out by the sight of her reddening clit peeking out between exposed, pale folds.

"My thoughts exactly," John Wick said, giving the nub a little rub.

Erin screamed out in ecstasy from his touch and a bang was heard on the thin wall. "KEEP IT DOWN!"

John looked over his shoulder at the noise, angered over the hypocrisy of man when he felt Erin's toes returning to the top of his erect cock. He looked down at her staring up at him and adopting an air of innocence. "But I don't want to keep it _down_ ," she said precociously. "I much prefer keeping it _up_."

The Alpha roared as she teased his cock even more, making the banging on the walls continue. He looked down to see his mate's high arched foot manipulating his organ. A long, plentiful drizzle of his precum was slowly falling down her foot, running along her leg. Erin purred in pleasure, seeing the contrast of her exceedingly white foot against his very red member. "Like Christmas," she commented. She then took the foot away in order to spread herself further for him. "Now give me your gift, John Wick, and I'll give you mine."

The Alpha looked from her face, so wonderfully free from the nightmare which had horrified her and showing only anticipation and desire, then down to her hole, spitting out slick and cream in equal measures and looking every inch as inviting as the gates to Heaven would. Wanting to both give and to receive, John positioned himself between her plump thighs and entered her with one simple yet passionate thrust.

The Omega cried out again, a lusty sound which warranted more movement from her lover whom made his own noises from the wonderful enveloping of his cock by her warm, moist cunt.

"OH JOHN!" she cried as he fell over her, his right hand palm down on cold tile, so as not to place his full body's weight on her's.

He was thrusting into her, revelling in the full release of his rutting and she was taking it with visible relish much to his own delight. Her foot, still covered in his precum, began to run up and down his thigh, making it wet while her hands caressed his buttocks.

Their lips met passionately, while the Alpha used his free hand to lift her nightshirt and display her large breasts to him so he could squeeze and fondle them as he knew they both enjoyed. The resulting clenching of her vagina made his knot emerge and she moaned in obvious delight of this as well. Bringing his head to her chest, John tasted her breasts, sucking on her nipples and licking them in turn, making her cry out even louder from the breast play joined with his continued thrusting.

Loud music suddenly was heard from the apartment opposite as the neighbors tried to block out the sounds of lovemaking and the Omega's numerous orgasms with a rap song. Meanwhile Erin was beneath him sounding far more believable than a Donna Summers' single. John Wick absently once more contemplated how much he had missed his lover's sounds of ecstasy. She was normally so shy yet he could make her cry and scream like the most uninhibited of people. It brought him to his own orgasm, one he unleashed after yet another of Erin's own.

By the time they were finished, the floor was wet and slippery from the spending of both their bodies fluids. Erin sat up and wrapped her arms around his neck after their simultaneous climaxes had finished. The assassin hugged her back before grabbing the book of fairy tales from off the floor and looking at her in amusement as he held it up.

"Why not?" she asked him boldly with sweet shyness dancing in her now untroubled eyes. "You made mine come true."

Heart glowing, John Wick fiercely held the Omega to him. "Yeah. You with me too."

It wasn't an "I love you" but John Wick hoped she would read between the lines and understand that that was what he meant.

* * *

Sitting in a puddle of precum, slick, cum and cream, holding my Alpha closely, I kissed his neck knowing what he was trying to tell me. 

"I love you too, John Wick," I whispered into his ear, nuzzling my head against his neck and kissing it as John tightened his embrace, grateful for my understanding before our soul bond had even taken place.

When I parted from him briefly, it was to look into small, dark eyes where love was equally displayed for me to read. His large hands were running up and down my back and I briefly remembered my nightmare and the sense of terror I had felt for myself and our unborn child. It was strange to feel such love and concern for someone that did not even exist. Still, I knew I would have died for the baby inside of me in that dream just as surely as I knew that John Wick would have moved Heaven and earth to protect me too.

Having faith in this fact, I placed the dream in the background where it belonged and focused solely on my current heat, which would bring with it my bonding to John.

* * *

John Wick was on the verge of asking his lover what her dream had been of until he realized that to do so would recall it to her memory and he wanted it to fade away as nightmares should and mostly did.

It had only been a dream after all.

Staring into Erin's eyes, still deep within her afterglow, he asked within his own, "The bedroom?"

She smiled and placed her forehead against his. "Yes."

* * *

It took us until the second day of my heat until we bonded. Both of us did not want to rush into it but took our time making love both furiously and tenderly in the space and time before.

During a small break between one of our couplings, John was lying by my side, stroking my cheek, when he softly stated. "Now."

I nodded as I lay on my back, my head on a pillow and not on a book of fairy tales now. His erect penis brushed against my thigh and I shuddered in blissful expectation, wrapping my legs around him while he slid into place. Oh, how I loved that long, thick piece of flesh, swollen and hungry, but how much more I loved the man it belonged to! Gazing up into his bearded face, I brushed his long hair behind his ear.

"I enter you, then you bite me," he stated.

"I bite you _first_?" I asked in surprise. Alphas usually did not afford their Omegas the honor of the first bond. 

"Yeah," John replied, touching my cheek. "I want to hear you inside my head..."

* * *

 _"just like you're inside of my heart,"_ John wanted to tell her but couldn't.

Instead he brought his finger to her naked chest and touched where her own lay. He could feel it beating under his fingertip in anticipation. The Alpha brought his head to it and kissed the smooth skin lying over it. Erin was nervous, he understood. It was her first time bonding; he would be her first just as he had been her first lover. The thought made him feel suddenly content though he remembered how the fact had made him nervous the first time they had ever mated. Knowing now that she had trusted him enough with both her body and heart made him feel strong, powerful and wholly devoted to her.

Just as every Alpha was designed and meant to be.

She looked very young, lying on her back and staring up at him shyly and with the sweetness he associated with her. He kissed her forehead quickly, excited at the thought of being inside of her there also soon. As he moved his body, his erection ran against her vulva and he watched as the child was replaced by a woman, aroused and in need of him to satisfy the physical ache she was experiencing. He kissed her neck and her lips before pushing his cock deep within her parted legs, sliding up to her womb. She cried out again in ecstasy, grabbing hold of his back and adding the imprint of her fingernails to his tattoos.

John Wick placed his neck and the gland on it before Erin's parted and gasping lips, offering himself to her freely. He felt her teeth against his skin. But though she bit him, she was hesitant to draw the required blood which was necessary, afraid to hurt him in her inherent gentleness.

"Harder, Erin," he instructed like a teacher. "You need to break the skin."

She did so quickly then and John Wick felt tears enter his eyes. They were not from pain but rather from the simple knowledge that she had only found the strength to hurt him so she would not let him down.

Aroused as much as he was touched, the Alpha began to move inside of the Omega, a simple sliding of his length up and down the tunnel between her legs which were spread wide and already soaked wet with a copius amount of slick and precome.

 _"I love you,"_ he heard Erin's voice within his mind. Her mental tone was the same as her physical one: feminine, youthful and kind. _"I'm yours. Wherever you go I will follow. Take me now too."_

Immediately his teeth clenched around the corresponding area on her neck where she had bitten, wishing to minister pain to her quickly so it would find its ending just as swift. Her blood flooded his mouth and he ate it with reverence, not wanting to show a single droplet disrespect. She was his lover and though the taste of the blood was of salt he believed he tasted her own sweetness invading it, as well.

He buried his face into her neck and knew the words he wanted to tell her, the sentiment matching hers, just like the bites now on their mutually bleeding necks. _"I'll follow you wherever you're going now also. And wherever you go, when we're apart, I will find you too. I promise."_

* * *

My eyes closed, John's words entered my head and my dream returned.

I saw a desert on fire and a moon of blood above my head. I felt him coming for me across one and under the other but these images disappeared once again as I opened my eyes and found my soul bonded mate gazing down at me. I took his bearded head in my hands and lowered it to kiss his forehead now just as he had done earlier with mine. John Wick rested his head against the heart that belonged to him for a few moments of satisfied peace before our mutual physical needs and longings reminded us that my heat still had hours left before its passing and our bodies still possessed the strength to attend to it together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Keanu;
> 
> You know, I think you work too hard. I'm not going to nag you about it but I pray to God you have friends and family that will let you know when you're overdoing it. And the commonsense to figure that out for yourself too. 
> 
> Chris Stein from Blondie developed pemphigus after working too hard. I don't want something like that to happen to you. The body needs to rest. I know your work is your life but I see you often and you seem so sad and tired. If God needed a day to rest well so do you, Keanu Reeves!
> 
> I'm also worried about that Matrix sequel. I was looking at the cast and can't believe Laurence Fishburne isn't in it. And what's with all those young actors? God help me, if Neo and Trinity are just virtually there to "pass on the torch" *ahem* just like "Bill and Ted Face the Music." I hate that. You know, it hardly ever works. Most likely the torch is dropped and it burns the whole franchise down. :/
> 
> I saw someone saying that usually there is a limit of years that indicates whether a sequel will be good. The guy was pretty dead on. If it is over 10 years the freshness of the idea is gone. The creators did not intend for that sequel to ever exist and it is usually based on money rather than creativity. That makes sense. Sequels are really only ever decent when they are made in that particular time frame. Like the original Star Wars films.
> 
> Or the John Wick series.
> 
> I am so happy you have JW because it is *now*. I don't want you to get hurt because you feel obligated towards your friends to constantly look back on your *then*.
> 
> If that makes any sense. :/
> 
> Sorry if that is speaking out of turn but it has been bothering me for a few days now. And I'd hate to keep quiet when I am honestly worried about it all.
> 
> Not that you read these anyway.
> 
> Much love,  
> Erin  
> XO XO  
> :D <3


	29. Over the Phone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After bonding with John, I decide to still keep my job at ErosPsyche from my mate while he receives a disturbing phone call at the Continental.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ummm...Has anyone ever noticed that the John Wick theme sounds like the Bee Gees "Haunted House"? My sister is fantastic at finding Halloween songs and she brought that song back and I listened to it the first time thinking it sounded so familiar. The second time we listened to it my sis said, "Erin, that doesn't sound like the John Wick theme, does it?"
> 
> And she was right. It did.
> 
> But Google ain't bringing up anything. Now I doubt that Keanu or Chad are that familiar with the Bee Gees' oeuvre. But I find it hard to believe that Barry Gibb has *never* seen a "John Wick" film.
> 
> Was it sampled?
> 
> I hope I didn't start a lawsuit or anything but I was curious. :/

Hearing John's voice inside of my head had a repercussion I had never truly considered before. As we spent the rest of my heat talking both verbally and mentally, I realized that the bully OCD voices were not quite so loud. My Alpha's deep, steady tone seemed to keep them at bay and I could focus on him when I closed my eyes, knowing that some of the thoughts inside of my head, the ones which did not belong to me, were his instead.

"You're one heck of an intimidating presence," I said as my heat neared its ending.

"How's that?" John asked nibbling on the lobe of my large ear.

"Well with you inside of my head, the OCD thoughts are kind of backing away...they are scared of the Baba Yaga too, I guess."

"Finally a good point to being a killer," John Wick said as he positioned his body over mine and took me for yet another blissful time.

* * *

John Wick, once more inside of the woman he loved, felt his heart infused with a warm glow at his Omega's words. To be her hero was what he truly wanted. To have saved her physically from Leuce had brought with it relief but to know that he soothed her mind brought him outright joy. It was something he hoped that she _felt_ but then he remembered the rules that existed between an Alpha and his soul bonded mate: they could only ever send the thoughts that they wanted and feelings were not included with the whole package.

Grunting as he thrusted, the woman legs rising and her toes rubbing pleasurably along his own, John Wick once again felt the frustration of not being able to transform his feelings into words. It would have been so much easier to just open up his heart and let Erin see all he felt for her. Words would always be his greatest stumbling block. Maybe being an assassin, where actions always meant so much more, had hindered him in that respect.

 _"Stop over thinking and just fuck me, John Wick,"_ he suddenly heard Erin's voice as clear as a bell inside of his head.

He looked down into her face lying on the pillow, looking up at him with a playful smile on her face.

Lowering his head, his lips wearing their own curled ends, John Wick began to do just as he had been instructed, sending one thought to his mate.

_"You scare my demons off too, Erin."_

* * *

When John Wick was leaving me following our bonding, he left me with more than just another tie: He left me with his voice and a piece of himself. Kissing by the window, a passionate and uninhibited locking of the lips, I felt blessed to be one of the few people the assassin trusted with his soul. I prayed to God that I could only do as good a job as Helen had for I saw the tough yet wounded man in my arms as the most precious thing in all the world. I knew that deep down he did not share this feeling in regards to himself. To John Wick, the Baba Yaga was already damned and was incapable of making any difference for good in a world he felt trapped in. I didn't need to read his thoughts or experience his feelings to know that.

However, to me, he was the bright center of a world he possessed the power to alter if he only wished.

John Wick was no monster to me; he was one of its few possible heroes.

"I'd better get going," John stated after reluctantly pulling away.

I nodded. "Not completely," I said pointing to my head. The assassin kissed my forehead and I lowered his and did the same. "How come even though I hear you there it's more like it happens here," I said, touching my heart.

John Wick quickly lowered his head and kissed my clothed breast where I had just rested my hand. I moaned and then met his eyes. "Don't get me started, John," I warned.

He smiled and gazed down into my face. While we stared into each other's eyes, the assassin smiling brightly, I realized something. I felt whole.

More than that.

I felt _equal_.

All my life, being an overweight Omega and dealing with my OCD, AVPD and resulting depression and anxiety, I had always felt _less_ then those surrounding me. I was weak and broken, I feared and so the voices of the demon's inside of my head had grown until they had become defeaning. Then one day I had met a man with his own monsters to battle. Standing before that man, my one and only mate, I understood that we were very different and yet in our own way similar.

Love was possessing what the other needed and yet being able to comprehend your lover's feelings without words.

As a writer, I dealt with words but for John that was difficult. He dealt with _actions_. I could afford to wear my heart on my sleeve while in my Alpha's profession doing so was only giving his enemies a clear target to aim for. Maybe, in a way, it was why the man had taken to restoring books when he had been allowed to retire: not finding words easy to say he had devoted himself to their preservation.

But now I could be my Alpha's heart and tongue, I suddenly realized. There was a strong sense of being strong in that realization and I suddenly understood that I was seeing myself as John Wick saw me. In his eyes I was not less beautiful because I was broken. He saw my strengths and he was there to protect me from my weaknesses. Just as, in return, I helped him in the areas he felt vulnerable.

In truth, we complimented one another, no matter how mismatched we seemed to the outside world.

Quickly, I kissed John's own heart, showing him that I valued it just as much as he valued mine.

"Don't get me started," he echoed my words.

And with that, we suddenly went to each other in unison and fell to the floor, not wanting to say goodbye before finishing what we had both started.

* * *

Having said goodbye to Erin, John Wick started on his journey back to the Continental before checking in to work. It was with delight he heard her occassionally sending him a thought or two along the way. He smiled walking down the streets, amused by the Omega's first exploratory steps after having become soul bonded. She was like a child testing out a walkie talkie and her innocence and insecurity touched him. He could also clearly tell she was gesit6ant to invade his privacy or become a nuisance. She would pop up occassionally with just a little " _hello_ " or " _I love you_."

He'd reply with his own short replies, remembering how it had been when he had initially bonded with Helen. At that stage in his life, he had not been completely used to having someone else inside of his head. It had been nice but having been an assassin he had valued his privacy and the sanctum of his mind. Her presence had sometimes seemed a startling intrusion. He had gotten used to it but it had taken time. When he had confessed that to his wife, months later, she had saucily cocked an eyebrow and told him, "Don't think for a second it was any easier for me, bub."

Helen had always been an independent woman.

She had not needed him and he had not needed her.

They had simply fallen in love and been together.

On the other hand, he loved Erin but he could not _be_ with her. At least, not 24/7 in some perfect little house in the burbs.

Erin was so different from Helen and John Wick remembered on his walk back to the Continental that that had been one of the reasons he had chosen her as his mate to begin with. Another reason had been their mutual _need_ for each other. It created a dynamic he was not used to, one which frightened him a little but which also made him feel content.

 _"John?"_ her sweet voice entered his head again.

"Yeah?"

 _"I'm not used to this,"_ Erin confessed across the growing distance. _"I want to talk to you...but I don't want to talk too much. And then I'm afraid if I don't talk, well, you'll think I don't want to talk to you."_

John let out a small laugh which made the busker he passed look at him strangely. _"That's your OCD, Erin. Don't worry about it."_

_"Okay. Oh, John?"_

_"Hmm?"_

_"I love you."_

* * *

Returning to ErosPsyche, I enjoyed talking with John throughout the day but remembered his advice. Another realization had hit me as well. In John's line of work, where focus was linked to survival, it was probably best not to go popping up with a message on the whim, distracting him. When I had mentioned this to my Alpha, while sitting and eating lunch at the cafe where we had met, the hitman had suggested that _he_ be the one to contact me first, unless it was an emergency. I'd met this suggestion with relief, feeling that some of the weight had been removed from my shoulders.

 _"Good,"_ I sent him my reply. _"That way it won't be like an annoying call disturbing you while you're at work."_

_"Huh...reminds me, I wish I could use your orgasm for my ringtone."_

_"JOHN WICK!"_ I exclaimed.

 _"What? It's the truth,"_ he had casually replied. _"Besides it was worth it to see the expression on your face."_

Turning to look out the window to my side, I saw a certain Baba Yaga looking at me from across the street. I smiled at him, as we stared through sporadic traffic at one another in longing, before he began to walk away.

 _"Maybe I'll walk by Sweethearts sometime,"_ I heard him say.

 _"What?"_ I thought in confusion, sad he had gone out of my line of vision but grateful to still hear his soothing voice.

 _"The publishing house you work for,"_ John replied and I quickly remembered the lie I had told him.

"Oh yeah," I stated, trying to seem steady, not wanting him to do anything of the sort. One day, I would find the strength to tell my Alpha where I worked. I promised myself to do this, uncomfortable with any lie or half truth that existed between us.

But today was _not_ that day.

* * *

Another day of dealing out death like the Grim Reaper in a suit, John Wick returned to the Continental to retrieve Hal before he attempted to go and see Erin. She hadn't seen the pit bull in a while and had confessed to wanting to give the canine a scratch behind his ear. John was hoping that when he visited the woman there would be enough time for her to give his itch a scratch too when Charon informed him, halfway out the door, that there was a call for him.

John Wick turned and looked over his shoulder at the concierge. He slowly walked towards the front desk in wariness. The Table possessed his cell phone number, as did most of his friends and acquaintances, while Erin was now linked to him telepathically. Whomever was contacting him it was not for work and it could only be for reasons which were suspect.

Taking the receiver from Charon's hand, he answered with a blunt, "John Wick here."

"Hello John," Cassian's voice replied. "Just wanted to say hello to an old friend. Know where I am?"

"No," John answered, his voice even but chilled.

"I'm in Italy...the Gardens of Sallust to be exact."

The Baba Yaga frowned as visions of Gianna D'Antonio slitting her wrists in a pool swiftly filling with her own blood flashed through his mind, an image he was grateful Erin could not see.

As if reading his mind, some more menacing bond having been established between them by D'Antonio's death, the bodyguard continued, "The pool where Gianna died is still stained with her blood. I tried to take it off but it stayed."

John Wick did not comment, guilt making his tongue far too heavy.

"My revenge stays too, John. I intend to make you pay. Not right away; you've made me wait so I'll make you wait too. I'm gonna find that Omega of yours and when I do I'll make you suffer through her. It won't be quick. I hope you've bonded with her, John so you can hear her scream for you. So you will know every single thing I will do to her. And when..."

Not another word from the man came out of the phone to reach John Wick's ear. Pulling his gun out from its holster, the assassin fired bullet after bullet into its coal black and shining surface. Plastic chips were sent flying from it until it went dead and lay on the counter, both holy and desecrated. Charon looked at the damaged phone and then to John Wick in his usual calmness. "Shall I add that to your tab, sir?" he asked.

"Yes," Wick replied, hoping the concierge did not notice that he was slightly trembling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Keanu;
> 
> Can I play your mother here for a second? I saw your latest video for the BRZRKR Kickstarter and while I loved it, it worried me. You kept touching your face! I'm not freaking out about this whole COVID19 thing as much as others but I do know that you smoke and that puts you at risk as does touching your face. Please be careful. Yeah, I know, it's automatic but...I care for you. I want to see your movies for decades to come. Please wash your hands and keep them away from your eyes, nose and mouth.
> 
> Mommy mode off now.
> 
> Much love,  
> Erin  
> XO XO  
> :D <3


	30. Under Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Wick talks to Winston about Cassian's threats while I visit the Doctor to find out the reason for my delayed heat.

I was lying in bed, saying my prayers, when I thought that God was shockingly talking _back_ to me for a change. Only God sounded an awful lot like John Wick and was asking me if I was okay.

The assassin had taken to doing that a lot recently: out of the blue, popping up to ask me if I was all right. I knew something had happened which bothered him but wasn't sure what it was, nor had I been able to drag it out of him. I'd seen him on a few occassions in person but not as much as I would have liked and he always seemed tense when he climbed through the window, casting nervous glances over his shoulder until he was safely inside. Only in my arms did he relax as I coaxed him with a few soft whispers and carresses to a state closer to peace, if not, one which was actually there.

Putting my memo to my Maker on hold for a while, knowing God was eternal and had nothing but time and was pretty understanding too, I decided to ask the Alpha, yet again, what it was.

 _"John, maybe I should be the one asking you that,"_ I replied, lying on my side and closing my eyes so I could picture him along with seeing him.

_"Why?"_

_"Well, you've been asking me for days now if I'm okay. You're also not coming to see me as often as I'd like."_

_"We can talk telepathically now,"_ he grunted.

 _"Yeah,"_ I agreed. _"But there are some things we kind of need to do in person, if you catch my drift."_

 _"Your heat is coming up for that,"_ he reminded me.

I bit my lip. I hadn't been experiencing the usual signs of an impending preheat and was wondering if the stress of everything had finally caught up with me and I was about to skip one. I seemed to have regained some of the weight I had lost when I had believed John had sworn off me forever. This could have done it also, I realized, my body unused to such sudden shifts. I was feeling bloated and generally unwell. Although I had been reluctant to tell John about it, I had made an appointment with my Doctor to see if I had caught anything which wouldn't help things out either. I'd forgotten about my previous problems regarding my heats before I had met John Wick. His presence in my life had seemed to make my reproduction system highly functioning, his Alphaness coaxing it into a more efficient working order. It probably had a great deal to do with my vagina's hunger for his cock and my womb for his seed, I accepted, but didn't send this thought out to him.

It was finally the time to come clean about my health, though, I knew. _"John, I don't feel like I'm anywhere near my heat,"_ I confessed. _"Actually, I've been feeling kind of sick."_

 _"Is anything wrong?"_ he asked and though it was the same question he'd been asking for weeks, I knew he was now thinking of Helen and the pain of what he had gone through with losing her.

 _"No,"_ I said, reassuringly. _"Nothing that I'm not used to. My body is like my head, John Wick: a mess."_

 _"A hot mess,"_ John stated.

 _"I'm putting the weight I lost back on,"_ I lamented with a sigh.

 _"I love you anyway, Erin,"_ he crooned and I suddenly felt warm and safe both in my bed and in my skin.

 _"You'll forgive me if I miss a heat?"_ I asked.

He laughed. " _We'll fake it. That would be just as fun. And the Table needn't know..."_

There was silence after that remark and I realized something which would have been obvious if my OCD mind wasn't already so crowded with nonsense. _"You're worried that they'll find me, aren't you?"_

Silence.

_"Did they do anything?"_

_"Things are changing within the organization, Erin,"_ he informed me. _"And to make things worse, a man named Cassian threatened to hurt you to get back at me."_

_"What did you do?"_

More silence until, _"I caused the death of the woman he loved for her brother."_

I thought of John's hands and how though they were so gentle and soft on my body, unless I requested they be rough, but how they had been responsible for so much violence and pain.

 _"Do you still love me?"_ he asked from somewhere in New York City.

 _"Always,"_ I replied without a second of silence between the question and its answer.

* * *

John Wick knocked on the door to Winston's office and received an invitation to enter in a terse and irritated tone. When he opened the door, he found the Englishman looking over a stack of papers about a mile high on his desk. A pair of glasses sat on Winston's nose and they glinted, reflecting the small desk lamp to his side as the man raised his head to see whom his visitor was.

"Jonathan, thank God!" Winston exclaimed. "I was afraid it was Charon with more paperwork."

"That bad?" John asked.

"Worse," the Brit scoffed. "There are new rules, new faces and a whole slew of new migraines to suffer."

"Could you spare a moment to talk about my _stray_?"

Winston's eyebrows raised. "Of course. Is something wrong?"

"It could be," John Wick stated flatly.

The Continental manager stood and ushered his visitor to follow him, leaving behind the tower of white.

* * *

They found themselves back in the soundproof room of arms. Winston regularly swept it for bugs, not that it would have mattered. The metal casing of the room interfered with any signals from possible surveillence equipmement. It remained the safest room in the Continental for a private discussion, as it had been during their last conversation, and John wanted to make certain that he was not endangering his Omega by asking what he needed of his reconciled friend.

"What is it, Jonathan?" Winston asked, leaning forward on the sofa. "Is my Ariel all right?"

"My _Erin_ is fine," John stated, mildly possessive. "Other than she hasn't been feeling well."

"Nothing serious, I hope."

"No. Well, she told me it wasn't."

"But you don't believe her?"

"I believe her," John replied. "What's wrong has to do with something else. _Someone_ else."

Winston raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Cassian," the assassin stated.

"Yes," Winston said, leaning back on the sofa. "Charon informed me about the phone incident."

"He threatened Erin."

"My God...Does he know about her?"

John Wick shook his head. "No. But he heard I had a new mate and he's found a way to pay me back for Gianna."

"You want my help protect Erin if he somehow manages to find her?" Winston stated.

A nod was given from the standing Alpha.

"You need to ask? I would go to the end of the world to save your Omega, Jonathan Wick," Winston claimed, holding his head high.

"Even if it is against the Table?" John Wick asked, his mind returning to the events of his Excommunicado status and the war shortly waged against the underground organization. Knowing that the man had chosen the hotel over their friendship the last time, John was not sure if the Englishman would not make the same choice again if presented.

However, Winston seemed a man whom was not apt to repeat the mistakes of the past. His cool British intellect made him live _and_ learn. The hotel manager raised his head even higher. "You have my word or you can add me to your infamous hit list," he vowed without blinking.

* * *

"You aren't serious," I asked Dr. Moore as he stared at me.

I was sitting in the chair in one of his examination rooms. It had taken him an hour to see me again after the tests and I had not been expecting the answer he had just given for my feeling under the weather during the past few days.

"No," the physician, a man in his late sixties, possessing incredibly fluffy white hair and big, bright blue eyes behind thick rimmed glasses answered.

"How?" I said in shock. "You said it wasn't likely...that...that..."

"You lost weight didn't you? That made the difference."

I swallowed and looked to the floor, thinking about how the possible ramifications of that had gone straight over my head. Regretting my foolishness, I folded my hands in my lap and stared at them. I began to mewl; I thought of John and how I wanted nothing more than to rush to him but how the thought of seeing him again after the news I'd just received was what was terrifying me in the first place.

"It wasn't planned, was it?" Dr. Moore said in sympathy.

"No," I said. "It's hard to _plan_ something you think is impossible."

"Will your Alpha be understanding, Erin?"

I opened my mouth to reply but nothing came out. I couldn't imagine what John Wick would say. All I could do was shake my head in confusion.

"There are places if..." the older man began to say but I quickly stood and shook my head even more violently. "No, that's _not_ an option. I just hope that..."

Dr. Moore placed a hand on my shoulder and looked at me kindly. We were about the same height and our eyes were on the same level. I saw in them the same level of understanding he had offered me since I had first come to the city and become his patient. "Are you bonded?" he asked.

"Yes," I answered.

"You to him and him to you?"

"Yes," I replied.

"So many Omegas walk through my doors where it isn't a true bond, one going both ways. Many Alphas only desire to give their mates orders. They want to be inside their lover's head, controlling them, but can't be bothered to have someone else inside of their's. If your Alpha agreed to the mutual bond, he will understand. Trust me."

I nodded but was not so sure. John had begun our arrangement with specific ideas. He had considered the chance of a child but only because he always saw every possible outcome with any task, I knew; everyone except for the chance of falling in love with me, that was. I was not sure how he would react to the latest twist in our love story.

"Can you contact him now and tell him?" Dr. Moore asked. "Make yourself feel better?"

Another flash of horror overtook me as my OCD voice told me that I had lost John Wick for good. "I can't do that," I told the physician. "He might be at work and I wouldn't want to distract him."

"Oh?" he said. "What does he do?"

"He's an exterminator," I answered with a veiled truth before I heard John's voice anxiously flood my mind and almost make me fall to the floor from his sense of panic.

* * *

Taking on about three Italians in little Italy, all while he was in the basement of a restaurant called Tony's, John Wick felt a sudden surge of fear that was not his own. Three amateurish mafia men were no real threat to him so he knew immediately that the fear was Erin's. It was impossible that he should be able to read her emotions so powerfully and not just a sent thought. Or, rather, it should have been impossible. However, the feeling reached him clear and overpowering and he was so consumed with the resulting terror for his Omega that one of his opponents managed to slice his right arm with a knife before he kicked the man in the groin, grabbed the weapon from out of his flesh and rammed it through his enemy's throat.

" _ERIN_!" John called out inside of his mind while he made short work of the last two mafia men, a short, scrawny man in his twenties and a balding tall guy in his early fifties. He bashed the two men's heads together, despite their differences in size, and heard their skulls crack. " _WHAT'S WRONG?_ " he soon demanded.

_"John? How..."_

_"I felt it,"_ John replied, holding his arm as the pain flared.

 _"You've been cut,"_ she said and he shivered from the fact that she was as in tune to his physical pain as he had been to her mental suffering.

_"I'll live. Should I come and..."_

_"No,"_ she replied. _"Go to the apartment and wait for me. I need to tell you this in person."_

That was all he needed to hear; John Wick went running.

* * *

I looked into the eyes of my Doctor. He was staring at me in the obvious comprehension that I had been communicating with my Alpha. He was a kind man, one whom had, no doubt, seen his fair share of lovers and mates during his time in practice as he had confessed.

"I was able to feel what he felt," I stated. "My mate...I felt him...I felt him cu...bump his arm..."

"That isn't unheard of in your condition," the man remarked. "Especially when it inolves two people whom love each other. There is a strong conduit between you now. Has he told you that he loves you?"

I shook my head. "No. He isn't the type for that. But I _know_ that he does."

The Doctor smiled. "Another reason _not_ to be afraid, child."

* * *

John Wick sat in Erin's small apartment, waiting in the same chair where once he had sat prepared to confront her following the discovery of her secret friendship with Winston. Now he counted the seconds in crippling terror instead of the rage he had felt the night he had waited for her to arrive home to end their affair.

He had not taken care of all the hits the Administrator had assigned for him. But, as far as the assassin was concerned, the man and the twelve he worked for could handle those themselves. Nothing mattered to him more than his mate's health.

As he had rushed to the poor part of the city, where the Omega's dwelling was situated, he had remembered that she had been scheduled to meet with her Doctor and a million coinciding and horrible memories had flooded his memory of the time spent with Helen during her illness. He remembered the faces of sympathetic Doctors and nurses and the almost guilty look in his wife's eyes whenever her eyes rested on his and she realized that she was soon to leave him on his own. There were Doctor offices and hospital corridors, days spent with loneliness, pain and worst of all directionless and futile hope. When he had remembered Erin's appointment and sensed her fear, it had all returned to him, just as badly as any enemy he had faced. It was the worst of all, in fact, for neither himself, Helen or an army of prayers had been able to defeat it.

He kept wanting to command his Omega to tell him what the problem was in order to get the waiting over with so he could face it. Then he would vividly recall Helen collapsing on the boardwalk and how it had been the beginning of the end for their marriage and he could not find the strength to face it. So, instead, he sat in the apartment, blood drying on his arm from the wound that seemed incomparable to the one inside of his heart.

When Erin finally walked through the door and locked it carefully behind her, he stood and walked towards her as if he were walking towards his death. She looked up at him with large frightened eyes and he found himself shaking against his will. "The Doctor...he...he said that you're sick...that you're dying," he said, repeating words he had wanted to say to Helen but had not been allowed to, knowing, _feeling_ that he needed to be strong for her instead of venting his agony. But staring at his chubby Omega lover, he did not possess the necessary strength to be strong anymore.

The Baba Yaga was scared close to a crazed weakness.

* * *

When I walked through the door, John came walking towards me, his arm bloody, looking as terrified as I felt. No, I thought, studying his face, which was contorted in a pain more powerful than just the physical kind: his torment was far worse. He was trembling and his eyes looked like a rabbit's and not those of the wolf I usually associated them with.

"The Doctor...he...he said that you're sick...that you're dying," John Wick said, reliving old wounds he had been left with during Helen's slow and prolonged death. It was obvious he had been sitting in my apartment imagining the _worst_ while I had merely been terrified to tell him the news which many other lovers considered to be the _best_.

I took his face in my hands and petted his cheek and beard, attempting to soothe him and prepare him for what was to come.

"No, John, no...it's nothing like that," I cooed to him gently, shaking my head and hating myself for having worried him and also hating myself for what I had to tell him. I took a deep breath and then quickly spat it all out, as I peered into his beautiful eyes, "I'm _pregnant_."

* * *

John Wick heard the words that Erin told him but did not understand them immediately. His fear that the Omega had been about to tell him she was dying had been so overpowering, aided into something close to reality by bad memories, that at first he had not been able to believe that all of his nightmares were not about to be dreamt again and that history didn't in fact repeat itself.

Then the last word began to break through the pain of his past and the fear of his present and he saw his frightened little Omega standing before him, trying to be strong.

Then he finally heard her the one beautiful and still terrifying word she had spoken too.

 _Pregnant_.

John Wick felt the tears suddenly falling from his eyes as he held Erin's face in his hands in return and began to kiss her in seemingly endless repetitions. As she gradually returned them, he felt her own fears beginning to dissolve and he felt their feelings and thoughts merge and become like the baby that was now growing inside of her womb. Dropping to his knees, John Wick placed his hands on either side of her waist and started to kiss her belly. As he did, the Omega wrapped her arms around his neck and held him tightly to her, tears falling from her eyes and on to his head like the raindrops which had fallen from the sky on the day they had first met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Keanu;
> 
> My sister and I start getting ready for Halloween in September. I heard you used to watch movies with your sister. I do that too. We start the celebration by watching a thriller every night. This month it has been mostly Hitchcock.
> 
> Watching "Psycho" I was reminded of how much I love Norman's conversation with Marion. The film to me is almost a reminder that everybody has their separate lives and secrets. In "Psycho" we see the convergence/meeting of two people both running from their problems. For one moment they find each other and intersect, and might save each other if permitted, but poor Norman is hiding a far more horrible secret than his Marion and he can't escape his horror.
> 
> And then there is a bit of conversation and dialogue which transcends an ordinary film for me and becomes something real even though it should only be pretend:
> 
> Norman: The rain didn't last long, did it? [Pause]You know what I think? I think that we're all in our private traps, clamped in them, and none of us can ever get out. We scratch and we claw, but only at the air, only at each other, and for all of it, we never budge an inch.
> 
> Marion: Sometimes, we deliberately step into those traps.
> 
> Norman: I was born in mine. I don't mind it anymore.
> 
> Marion: Oh, but you should! You should mind it!
> 
> Norman: Oh, I do, [laughs] but I say I don't.
> 
> That is so honest and heartbreakingly astonishing to me. The acting, the filming, the words...they come together and it becomes something startling.
> 
> And then I tried to think of another moment which was like that for me and I instantly thought of this from "A Scanner Darkly":
> 
> Bob Arctor: The pain, so unexpected and undeserved had for some reason cleared away the cobwebs. I realized I didn't hate the cabinet door, I hated my life... My house, my family, my backyard, my power mower. Nothing would ever change; nothing new could ever be expected. It had to end, and it did. now in the dark world where I dwell, ugly things, and surprising things, and sometimes little wondrous things, spill out in me constantly, and I can count on nothing."
> 
> The first time (and anytime after) that shook me and not because I am your fan. I love Woody Harrelson and Robert Downey Jr. in the film and they might have had more flashy roles but their characters did not possess that one single moment of heart stopping beauty to me.
> 
> When I saw that scene it hit me the same way as Norman and Marion's painful, truthful discussion. I'll always remember it for it touched that part inside of me that makes me believe in a soul. I felt it then inside of me instead of only thinking it was there.
> 
> Much love,  
> Erin  
> XO XO  
> :D <3


	31. Behind Vaulted Doors and Mad Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and I discuss baby names after which he shares his good news while I earn Ivy Bunker's wrath.

"What do you think we should call it?"

I was lying on my back while John Wick was resting his head on my right breast. We were both naked and spent and satisfied as well. The assassin's seed was still wet on my thigh and it had been the gentlest act of love we had ever shared between us. I could tell that John Wick had no desire to hurt the child growing inside of me and he had been more careful than perhaps was even necessary. For a man used to violence and the dealing out of death, he had feared doing the same to the act of life he had created. Now his large hand was on my tummy, feeling it with no shortage of amazement over the fact that he possessed the gift to create life too instead of simply taking it.

Stroking his long, dark hair, I gave his question some thought. " I'm not sure. It's kind of important. The poor soul will have to be saddled with whatever we give him or her for the rest of their life. Unless they decide to change it, that is. And if they do, we'll know for sure that we failed," I said with a laugh.

John laughed too, although, it was something felt more than heard. "I changed my name," he confessed.

"And whom were you before, John Wick?" I asked.

"Jardani Jovonovich," he answered. "It was my father's name too."

"So you're a Jr.?"

"Not exactly," he stated, drawing small circles with the tip of his index finger on my smooth skin. "My mother insisted I be given her father's name also."

I inquired what that was.

"Sacha," John stated.

I kissed the top of his head and brushed it in with two slow strokes. "Would you rather I call you Jardani?"

The answer was clear before he even whispered it. I could feel it in the way he tensed and the way the finger on my belly stopped midcircle. "No," he answered. "John Wick is a man whom kills strangers; Jardani Igor Jovonovich was a man whom killed everyone he loved and who loved him in return. All except one. And that one no longer loves him."

Images of the small child the grown man lying beside me had once been played out across the vivoid imaginative landscape of my mind. I saw Jardani Jovonovich with his mother and family, with his people and tribe; a happy boy before his father had decided to take on the Elder. And then I saw that same child left alone to survive while the blood of the slaughtered stained his clothing, a sea of crimson created by the numerous coprses of everyone he had known. Even though it had been the Elder's assassins whom had shed that blood, the identity of whom John Wick held responsible for the massacre was obvious.

My arms wrapped around the man that I loved and I held him tightly. I felt the motion of his throat against my large breast as he swallowed down tears or emotions. When the skin on my chest remained dry, I knew he had gotten to the latter in time to prevent the former.

I wanted to tell him then to love the father he had known and not the fool but knew that this was assuming too much. Sometimes we needed to be listened to instead of being given advice or words that could do no good. If John Wick no longer loved the man whom had helped in his creation I could not make him. And if the part of Jardani Jovonovich that still dwelled within him did still love the man but could never confess it, that was my lover's own personal business. I could only be content to be by his side as he dealt with it on his journey into becoming a father himself.

"I love you," I whispered. "Whatever you're called, Jardani or John, you are the only man I want to be my baby's daddy."

My skin finally became wet with tears then as John Wick embraced me gently with much tenderness, gratitude and love.

* * *

Returning to the Continental, John felt a million different emotions raging inside of him. The news Erin had told him had at first relieved him, then elated him and finally brought him back to yet another form of the fear he had thought he had escaped from. He didn't want to be a father. That had never been in the plans when he had made the arrangement with his Omega. It had thrown him enough off balance to have fallen in love with her but having a child was something almost cataclysmic in its arrival. To think that while once there had been only two in their relationship, their bodies sexual and purely needful and loving joining had created a third entirely separate and beforehand nonexistent creation was staggering.

A part of him saw the child as some unplanned enemy that was throwing his thoughts, emotions and life into sudden and unexpected dissarray. The other part of John Wick saw the baby forming inside Erin's womb as another gift she had given to him and possibly another angel which could help redeem him from his damnation.

 _"And what was I then?"_ he heard Helen ask coyly from the grave.

"You were that first step," John told her. "The most important one."

Satisfied, Helen Wick remained quiet as her widower abruptly realized another problem with the unborn child.

He was dying to tell everybody that he was going to be a father but had to keep his mouth shut. A few feet away from the Continental's entrance, he promised himself to keep it a secret

John Wick's staunch decision to keep silent about Erin's pregnancy, however, dissolved the moment he saw Charon at the front desk changing places with his replacement for the night. Hal came around the desk and greeted him happily and the Alpha gave him a few pets before apprehending Charon.

"Follow me," John Wick commanded and although the concierge looked mildly curious he still obeyed without question.

John led him and Hal to the bar, taking a chance that Winston would be at his favorite table, having a drink after a long tiring day of paperwork. The assumption was correct and the Englishman looked up at the hitman with Charon in tow with the same calmness he took everything.

"Jonathan, the bar still has its orders not to serve you. If you're after your bourbon, you'll have to find it elsewhere, I'm afraid," Winston stated drolly.

"I have something to tell you," John replied and immediately started walking to the vaulted room once more.

There was no need to look behind him; he knew that the hotel manager would be trailing behind him, having taken his place in the middle and butting in front of Charon. The English may be polite but they also had a strong sense of entitled propriety, John Wick understood.

Inside of the room filled with armory, the door safely locked, John Wick turned to the two baffled men and the oblivious dog and suddenly felt too overwhelmed to actually tell them what he had wanted to. The secret caught in his throat and he was suffering almost from giddiness, an almost foreign sensation to him, to speak.

Charon stood with inquiring eyes shielded behind glasses, waiting to hear what was so important the hitman had brought him down to the arms room when he could have been relaxing after a long shift. Winston, on the other hand, was staring at him with slight impatience. No doubt, he was thinking in annoyance of the paperwork he still had yet to do and how his free time was now being wasted by staring at a tongue tied assassin.

"Jonathan," the older man said. "If there is a reason why it was necessary that we form a parade and draw the attention and fear we were plotting another act of war by everyone in the hotel, I would bloody well like to hear it."

John tried to coax himself to it gradually. "You know how Erin was sick?" he began.

"Yes," Winston said while Charon remained in place and Hal continued to pant.

"She's pregnant," John Wick blurted out, suddenly tripping over his plan to slowly work up to it.

Both the Continental's manager and concierge seemed frozen in place for a moment and the Alpha believed he had never shocked two individuals more in his long life even as a highly skilled assassin where stealth was integral.

"Oh dear God," Winston mumbled. "John Wick is going to be a father?"

Wick nodded. There was silence in the room, enough to hear each blink committed, until all three men started laughing in unison. How much of it was caused by hysterics nobody knew but the sound of it crowded the room filled with guns like bullets until Hal started barking too in an attempt to join his voice into the chorus.

"I cannot believe it," Charon eventually commented. "A little Wick?"

The hitman nodded.

"I'm going to be a godfather," Winston smiled.

"Pardon me, sir," Charon argued. "But I have been looking after Hal for quite some time now. If anyone is chosen to be the godfather it will be me."

The Englishman glared at his friend and then turned to John Wick. "It's too early for that yet," the Alpha said, trying to buy time.

"I think this is cause for celebration," Winston stated and walked to the far end of the room. He reached behind one of the guns and pulled out a very dusty bottle of wine. Behind another gun was a glass and behind yet another a second glass was found also. "Sorry there are only two," the Englishman apologized. "Two is company and three is a crowd. If I ever happened to get stuck down here, I only foresaw having one companion for that very _truthful_ fact. You can have the bottle, Jonathan, if you like."

John Wick glanced at the label once it was placed in his hands and saw how expensive the wine was. "Are you certain, Winston?" he asked. "The bar is off limits to me, remember?"

Winston smirked. "Well this isn't the damn bar, now is it?"

Hal barked as the Alpha assassin popped the cork and filled both the glasses in Charon and Winston's hands. The Continental manager looked down at the pit bull, whom looked like he wanted some too. "Sorry," he apologized. "The Table might be changing rules but the establishment still hasn't gone to the dogs quite just yet."

Hal lowered his body and rested his dejected head on his paws and John made a mental note to get the canine a treat once they were back in his room.

"To Jonathan, my Ariel and their child," Winston raised his glass up in a toast. "May your days be filled with nothing but happiness and may there come one when you will be able to live under the sun together in peace and find your life together wonderfully and blessedly free of the Table."

" _My Erin_ ," John grunted in reminder.

"You should just be grateful that I forgive you for doing what you did to get her pregnant in the first place, you horrid beast," Winston scowled and took a sip from his glass.

The two men stared at one another. Slowly both faces broke into smiles and laughter once again filled the locked room, reaching no further than the waiting weapons surrounding them.

* * *

"So what is it now?" Ivy asked, sighing and glaring at her littered desk. She looked tired. No. The woman looked exhausted and I knew that she had only agreed to see me, squeezing the meeting into her busy schedule, because she needed a break for the sake of her sanity just as much for the reason that she was genuinely fond of me. "So are you going into heat?"

I shook my head. "I won't be going into heat for a few months."

The first expression Ivy Bunker wore was one of confusion. This suddenly changed as she realized what my words meant and what the act of heat the books published by ErosPsyche graphically described oftentimes led to. "You're pregnant," she stated.

"Yes."

Her hand began to claw at the papers on her desk. "How could you be so foolish?" she whispered in a tense hiss.

"I didn't think it could happen," I replied honestly.

The little woman looked on the verge of having a mental breakdown. Her hand was trembling as she grabbed for a glass filled with water on her desk. From a large bottle of Aspirin, she placed a few pills on her empty palm and downed them in an audible swallow. Finished, she glanced at my stomach in fear. " _His_ baby..."

I inhaled deeply as she stood and walked towards me. "You stupid girl. I tried to protect you....but...no, no...that's it. THAT'S IT!" the screamed. "GET OUT! GET OUT OF HERE! YOU'RE FIRED! YOU HEAR ME? YOU ARE FUCKING FIRED!"

My heart stopping equally from the look in her half mad eyes as the words she had said, I fell backwards as she took a step closer and yelled even louder, "TAKE YOUR THINGS AND GET OUT OF EROSPSYCHE BEFORE I HAVE YOU TOSSED OUT YOU NUMB FUCKING LITTLE IDIOT!"

I made a whimper and fell back into the door, opening it in a hurry behind me. My former co-workers' eyes were on me as I ran quickly from the building, my Omega instincts in full effect as I was trying to protect my baby from the screaming woman with the crazed French pea eyes.

* * *

Aurelio was sitting at his desk when John found him in the chop shop. The paperwork on the mechanic's desk was higher than Winston's, attesting to how less dilligent about attending to it the American was in comparison to the Brit.

"John Wick," his friend said. "Tell me the Mustang is fine or I'm gonna have to shoot you."

"It's fine," he said sitting down in a chair by the messy desk.

"Great. You get to live. So what do I owe the pleasure?"

"It's about my current...situation," the assassin stated. Between his legs, imitating the signaling made by a catcher in baseball, John Wick held up one finger and then another finally adding one more to it.

"Oh God," the mechanic stated in awe.

"I need your help in telling me if you hear anything about it at all. From the Table or the grapevine...I need this more than I've ever needed anything from you."

"You have my word, John," Aurelio promised and held up his hand as if he were making an oath.

John Wick nodded and then stood and started to leave.

"Hey John," the mechanic said, making the departing Alpha stop and look over his shoulder. "Congratulations man," Aurelio said with an amused grin.

"Thanks," John replied and resumed his trek to the garage's door.

* * *

About five hours after the termination of my job at ErosPsyche I was suprisingly reinstated when Chris phoned me at my apartment and rehired me. "Damnit, I don't know what's gotten into Ivy recently," he stated. "She's acting erratic. Must be the shift in the company."

"It's all right," I stated. I was only relieved that I had my job back without John having sensed the anxiety created by Bunker's behavior. He must have been out of the city, I reasoned, or I had managed to shield it from him. Now that I was employed again and had enough income to support myself and my child, I was much calmer.

"No. I hate to have to do it but I might have to _fire_ her, Erin."

"Oh please don't!" I cried, knowing that ErosPsyche was the woman's life.

"If not that then a transfer," my boss stated with a sigh. "I've got bigger things on my mind than a woman freaking out over one of our employee's maternity leave nine fucking months away. By the way, congratulations Erin."

"Thanks," I said with a smile only dampened by the worry about Ivy Bunker's future.

"Now I'm definitely gonna meet that Alpha of yours. For the future godfather of that jelly bean in your belly, it's a definite."

"From what my man told me, he has two friends already fighting for that particular position," I warned him.

"They don't stand a chance," Christopher commented, his voice becoming cold and hard. "I'm willing to play dirty. I'll start by giving you a raise."

"Bribery...I'll tell him that," I replied with a laugh.

"One more thing before I let you and that baby inside of you go get some rest before you head back to work tomorrow...Any reason you know of why Ivy should lose her cool like that?"

I thought of her previous hints of knowing John Wick and lied, "No. None at all."

Christopher was silent before he exhaled sharply. "We'll let her keep her insane secrets then."

"Yes," I replied, intent on keeping my own ones too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Keanu;
> 
> Got my blood work back. The Doctor's office phoned me. They said my B12 levels were very low and sounded very concerned about it. More concerned than I've ever heard them before. I'm supposed to go back in 3 months to see if it's any better.
> 
> I looked B12 deficiency up afterwards. There was this article listing the effects. One of them was trouble walking. They had this picture which was kind of disturbing of this poor older woman on her side on the ground, crawling and reaching out. She had this horrible and frightened expression on her face. Now I'm not worried for myself but that poor woman! I know it was a staged pic but my goodness! Somebody help the poor woman up! Don't just take a picture!
> 
> Joking aside, I'm kind of down at the moment. I finished my Neon Demon fic. I'm happy with it. But I'm afraid I disappointed a reader. I guess, you just have to be happy with some things yourself, right? You must feel that way sometimes about your own films. I'm in good company if you're there.
> 
> Much love,  
> Erin  
> XO XO  
> :D <3


	32. Within Months Passing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Wick and I experience the months of our child's formation, leading to the eighth and final one...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 100,000 words for this fic! Yay! :D <3
> 
> Two notes to Keanu for this one. We'll get the silly one over with first.
> 
> Dear Keanu; 
> 
> I'm still on my Mandalorian and Baby Yoda kick. Although, I should start calling him the Child. What tickles me, is seeing Amazon reviews for the Child fleece throws and that a bunch of guys bought them. I love it when men like cute things. Like this time, my sister mentioned when she was bringing home a Dumbo glass from Burger King and the server, some young guy, looked at it and said "Cute!"
> 
> I read once, when I was a teen, this guy complaining about how girls always were upset when they were called cute, wanting to be thought of as beautiful instead. He went on to say that, to a man, calling a girl cute was the highest form of flattery there was.
> 
> But what is your stance on cute? Do you like cute things or not?
> 
> I had this cutesy pumpkin I carved every year when I was little. I didn't want a scary pumpkin. I wanted a cute one. Then one year someone kicked it down the hill where my house was. :/ I always suspected a group of neighborhood boys did it. The same ones that complimented my house's fake cobwebs, only they weren't fake they were real.
> 
> Would you have done that to my pumpkin, Keanu Reeves?
> 
> Yeah. Having heard about your teenage exploits, I'm pretty sure you'd be standing there at the top of the hill with your gang of friends and my pumpkin's guts all over your sneakers. 
> 
> That wouldn't mean you don't like cute things though. Just that when boys get together they misbehave. :/
> 
> Much love,  
> Erin  
> XO XO  
> :D <3

Christopher did not fire Ivy, as he had threatened, but she was demoted to a place within ErosPsyche where I hardly ever saw her. Hardly didn't mean _never_ , though, and whenever I bumped into her she would look at me in fear and sorrow and then look down to my stomach, becoming even larger with child, and anger would join the mixture like rain becoming frozen on its journey to the ground during the winter months.

The new temporary editor that Chris chose when he was out of the office was a man named Gideon. He was bland, efficient and cold and made me miss Ivy even more despite her sometimes acerbic personality which still held some human warmness under its thistles, at least.

My work simply remained my work as my pregnancy progressed. I'd arrive at my desk at the usual time each morning and sit there typing up smut until it was time to go home. I garnered a few curious glances at the beginning, which I hated for they made me only shy and self conscious, but even these eventually faded over time and my co-workers soon lost their interest. I had been fat before to them; that the additional weight I was putting on was signaling a child meant very little to their own lives.

It was odd. About to begin a family with John, no matter how unconventional it would be, it made me finally peek around the wall my AVPD had helped create around me and I wondered more deeply about the people whom surrounded me. In my turn, I discovered that I knew very little about their own lives and families. While they were closer to each other than they were to me, I could see now that a distance remained even then. There were no family photographs adorning their desks nor art projects made by their children. At Valentines there were no chocolates or cards and no one ever celebrated an anniversary in my recollection. I suddenly realized that ErosPsyche's employees were unlike most in other places I had seen.

But I foolishly convinced myself that it was due to the seediness of the business itself and nothing else.

John came to see me often at the apartment but was using even more caution than before. He had two lives to think of with every action he made now and it weighed heavily on his shoulders. I could easily see the worry in his eyes. But it made those moments when some new discovery regarding our baby would overpower the dark cast of his expression and brighten it to something beautifully light and free from the heaviness all the more striking and precious.

At eight weeks, I brought him copies of the first images from my ultrasound and we lay back on the bed together looking over them and laughing. "It doesn't look like much," he said, holding me from behind. "Yet, it looks like everything at the same time."

"They say that they can hear and see a baby's heartbeat five weeks in," I said in awe. "And they say that it can hear mine...that that's the sound that it is listening to for comfort."

John's hold became a little tighter and he kissed the side of my face. "That would make two of us then," he whispered into my ear.

* * *

In the lounge of the Continental, a fire burning in the fireplace as a group of killers sat lazily around sipping their drinks, eating their meals or looking for hits which were more sexual in nature than the ones they had spent the day performing, John Wick found Winston finishing a martini on the settee close to where the flames were dancing. He casually handed the man the paper containing what was to be the first photograph made of what was to be the Baba Yaga's firstborn child and then walked away as if he had simply been taking care of paying a bill.

At the door, glancing over his shoulder, John saw the Englishman walk towards the fireplace and toss the photograph into the fire, which was the safest place for it in a den filled with lions. The assassin left but not before he had seen the smile on Winston's face and the warm twinkling of happiness in his icy blue eyes.

* * *

During my second trimester, I found myself getting aroused often and a quick online search told me that this was perfectly normal. The blood was heading to my lower areas as the baby was developing and my clit, cunt and labia felt aroused with very little stimulation. I think I shocked John by my need to make love to him whenever I saw him and he was only too happy to oblige. He was always a very tender and considerate Alpha lover and continually made sure that it was in a position which was comfortable and would not endanger the child growing inside of me.

My orgasms were strong but so was the feeling of peace I was left with knowing that John Wick loved me.

I liked it when I returned home from work and found he and Hal somewhere in the apartment waiting for me and when I could wake up next to him, while the dog slept on the floor in the bed I had bought for him. At these times, John had informed his employees that his mate had gone into heat and he was tending to her. It also helped in further allowing him to protect me, I understood. If his Omega was in heat, the Table would not be searching for a _pregnant_ lady. Still it didn't stop John from joking that it wasn't too far off in lieu of my increased sex drive.

Lying on our sides, a position which seemed to do it for both of us without causing too much trouble, the assassin's cock inside of me (althout without too deep a penetration,) I was gratefully accepting all that he was giving to me. I was cooing and moaning, crying and whimpering in need, feeling the demand of arousal that was always crying out for fulfillment being wonderfully satisfied by my Alpha when I caught him looking down at me with an amused little smile on his bearded face.

"What is it?" I managed to ask out breathlessly while I still moved my body, rubbing my lower half against his own and adoring his very hard and knotted erection with my clenching vaginal walls.

"You're almost worse now than when you were in heat," he commented.

"Are you complaining?" I asked and made my movements tease his cradled cock a little more.

"No," he replied, his voice deep and low and filled with desire.

But with that twitch of amusement still very much present.

* * *

John Wick was finding himself falling, with no great effort, into the momentary peace that life had finally offered to him. He would go and perform his orders for the High Table and still find time to be with his Omega during her pregancy. Even his minor worries of rutting had been dealt with by the fact that Erin seemed as eager to make love without her heats as she had been during them. He'd find himself releasing in the warm, inviting spot between her legs or her hungry mouth and find her anxiously willing to solve his biological problem of being an Alpha.

Then he would watch, her own needs having been satisfied, as she returned to being her sweet self, now adopting the traits which would make her a good mother to their child. He would catch her rubbing her stomach, looking at some maternity item she had bought or talking to the baby forming inside of her, saying silly things she was too shy to say while she knew he was around, and a warm glow would fill him, making him feel that the blood that coated his hands was not so stained on to his skin.

His Omega, his _Erin_ , had washed part of it off when she had coceived their child.

Even if he was a killer by nature, a man whom had been deservingly given the moniker of a monster, he had chosen a good mother for his child. That was, in some small way, an attack on an evil world.

* * *

"It's funny," John stated once as he was spooning with me following another act of love whose months before predecessor had helped create the small being in my womb, a being which was making me even bigger and it increasingly difficult to move about as freely as I once had.

"What's funny?" I asked, feeling that there were several funny things since I had become pregnant but curious to know what in particular was amusing my mate.

"From those two small parts of you and I a life is forming," he said, his voice rough but low in his wonder. "It is developing blood and skin...Even bones and teeth. Though it was just an egg from you and a sperm from me...hardness coming from that which was soft. It's a miracle."

I clasped the hands around my belly and turned to kiss his head on my shoulder. I knew that his thoughts were influenced by the work that he did to survive. He shed blood everyday, pierced flesh and broke bones for his daily bread. Inevitably its reflections turned to his own life and the child we had created between us. Maybe for the fact that he had spent his existence taking life he was more aware of its creation.

We were still kissing when the baby kicked inside of me, as if trying to remind his or her's parents that she or he was developing feet too. I felt John inhale sharply. "Did you feel that?" I asked with a giggle. Though I had begun to feel the baby's movements, John Wick hadn't yet, our child not strong enough to send them our from their inner sanctum to the wall outside.

"Yeah," he stated in shock.

"They're strong," I commented. "Must be an Alpha."

"I don't know," John said, stroking my belly in awe. "Omegas can be strong too. Two very special women taught me that."

* * *

On the subject of the baby's sex, I remained staunch in my choice to keep it a surprise until their birth. John found it funny because he had discovered months before that I was one of those annoying people who flipped to the end of a book first to make sure that it possessed a happy ending.

Or, at least, so I was aware ahead of time whom lived and whom died.

"Well, I'm not about to spend hours reading something only to get to the ending and regret it," I had explained and he nodded in understanding, returning to his own novel which he had never once seen the final page before he had naturally reached it.

Still, not knowing the sex of our baby was somehow important to me and John agreed. When I had brought the copies of the ultrasound taken during my twenty-first week, we had lain in bed together looking at it, with John's large hand blocking that one specific tell-tale area that might have given it all away.

"How'd you not see it on the screen?" the Alpga had asked in confusion.

"I didn't look at the screen at all," I answered. "It didn't feel right seeing our baby without you...I wish you had been there, John."

"I know. Me too," John Wick said and squeezed my hand gently in his.

* * *

At the New Jersey chop shop, after a tune up on the Mustang, John Wick passed something into Aurelio's hand as unimportantly as if he were handing him a tip.

"Keep whether its a stick shift or an automatic to yourself," the assassin stated. "We're waiting to find out until it gets off of the assembly line."

The mechanic opened the folded piece of paper, looked at all of it and then grabbed a blowtorch from off of the table, turning it to ash. "I don't like surprises myself," Aurelio stated witha smile. "But don't worry, I can keep a secret, John."

"I know you can," Wick said before turning to his Mustang and driving away.

* * *

Sex was getting harder now but we still found a way. Though, I knew with it nearing my last few weeks, Dr. Moore had advised me to lay off of it entirely. My vagina was feeling more numb but my hands and mouth still worked well on my Alpha as did his own on me.

He was sucking on one of my even more full breasts and nipples one night when I felt something coming out. He backed away, a bit of premilk dribbling down his whisker covered chin.

"Sorry," I apologized still turned on but suddenly embarrassed.

"Why?" he asked, wiping it off with the back of his hand. "Tastes good; like you."

While he was kneeling there, I saw his cock looking very large and anxious so I decided to run my hand along its swollen shaft and occassionally give his balls a few decent squeezes. The Alpha gave a sound which was half a moan and have a grunt and knelt to my side while I continued to please him. One of his own hands soon found my clit while another grabbed a handful of my other breast. While it was still arousing, I turned to the expression of ecstasy on John's face to help push me towards an orgasm more than anything else. Only after I had reached my release did my lover allow himself to come too.

He did it with a violent convulsion and squirt which hit my leaking breasts.

"Sorry," John apologized now, sheepishly.

I dipped my finger into it. "Why?" I replied, bringing it to my lips. "You taste good too."

John Wick smiled and then rested his head on my breast, kissing it and tasting the mixture of our bodies' fluids, like the mixture of us both within me.

* * *

Erin peacefully sleeping, John Wick stared at her face. She was once more like a child, untroubled by worry or concerns. Touching her cheek, he understood that it was only a matter of weeks before she gave birth and would face the resulting pain of it. The Alpha kissed her forehead, wishing her a gentle sleep in the present before her labor eventually came.

Moving down the length of her body, he came to her stomach, round and holding the result of their love and a decision made one rainy afternoon when they had first met. Crooning gently, wanting the child to hear it alongside Erin's beating heart, John Wick tenderly brought his palm to the now naveless belly.

"I will protect you," John Wick vowed running his hand over Erin's smooth skin. "Both you and your mother. I would die for you both."

They were words he intended to keep, come hell or high water, fiery deserts or blood red skies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Keanu;
> 
> Can I say, that this was the hardest chapter for me to write in any story so far because it is the one that probably held the most chance of hurting you?
> 
> And that is something I wouldn't ever want to do.
> 
> My apologies if you ever read this and it causes you any pain. That was not my intent. 
> 
> Much love,  
> Erin  
> XO XO  
> :,( <3


	33. Before a Last Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day before my last day of maternity leave, John Wick has a bad encounter with the Administrator which leads him to give me two gifts.

"So your mate is still going through her cycles?" the Administrator asked, peering down his nose and spectacles at the files lying before him on his desk rather than his visitor.

John Wick stood before the familiar sight, the smoke drifting all around him, and neither moved nor blinked, knowing now the true reason behind the summons to go to the Administrative Building on the ruse of a need for his signature. The question was expected. No matter how intelligent and clever his handler believed himself to be, he suffered from the fact that he was a slave to ritual and routine. Every so many weeks, the small, pierced man would toss the question at him, seeming as if it were absently done and held very little importance. And every time he did so, the Alpha would remember the latest news handed to him by Aurelio that the Table was becoming even more urgent to discover the identity of his mate.

Time had passed, close to a year since John Wick had taken Erin to be his Omega, and the assassin was aware that in his employer's minds they would be fully aware of time passing and that their favored killer was growing older. Their thoughts would be turning to creating his replacement for years down the line, when he was lying inside of a coffin. Whether they were willing to forsake their plans of merging his seed with an assassin, whom was his equal, and were willing to take whatever child was presented or if they still hoped to kill his current mate to create the desired progeny, Wick did not know.

All that mattered to him was that Erin was safely protected and that the Table had learnt neither of her identity or that she was soon to deliver their baby.

"Yes," John simply stated.

"All this time and she has not been with child?" the Administrator asked, slamming the stamp down on a sheet of paper and placing it to his side.

"We're careful," John remarked, realizing that they never truly had been.

The bureaucrat turned his eyes to him and stared in obvious contemptuous disbelief. "From what I have seen and heard, Alphas and Omegas are _rarely_ careful when it comes to heats." He said it in clear distaste as if the whole act was something he regretted even having been made from.

"You're a Beta," John stated.

"Thankfully yes, and asexual," the man said opening another file and studying it. "But, that fact aside, you are not. And neither was Helen Wick from what her file claims."

John clenched his fists. "You have a file on Helen here?" he growled.

The Administrator leaned across his desk and offered him what John Wick believed was perhaps the coldest most cruel smile he had ever seen, even with his years of exposure to countless killers. "Oh, yes," the man answered. "There is not a single soul in New York City whose file does not grace our shelves. It's all about importance, though, Mr. Wick. What we can use. We once thought we might have use for Helen but she'd dead now, isn't she? Not much use left for her save for the worms that are eating her as we speak...but this new mate of yours...she has a name and a file and we will find it out one day, And on that day, that file shall cross my desk and I will stamp it with the price on her head. And after that, it should only be a matter of hours before I stamp it with one simple word... _ **TERMINABITUR**_...Just like I did the one belonging to Helen Wick.'"

The smile which claimed the bureaucrat's lips suddenly transformed to something no longer made of ice. It was horrible in the amount of emotion that it now revealed on a face usually devoid of it. The Administrator suddenly became human, in that instance, and one that possessed a mad glee and sadistic lust for pain and death. In the simple act of the Beta's smile, and the crazed gleam in his blue-green eyes, John Wick witnessed the full hatred that the man felt for him and the madness he had caused to blossom inside the man's psyche over having failed at keeping him in check.

John Wick turned to leave without saying a single word, preferring not to give the High Table worker what he truly wanted: his fear.

"YOU DON'T TRULY BELIEVE THAT YOU CAN DEFY THE TABLE WITHOUT CONSEQUENCES, DO YOU, MR. WICK?" HAVEN'T YOU LEARNED YOUR LESSON FROM LAST TIME?" the Administrator was shouting out at him in crazed fury. "WHEN WE FIND YOUR NEW OMEGA YOUR LAST ONE'S SLOW DEATH WILL LOOK LIKE A BLESSING! THERE WON'T BE ANYTHING LEFT FOR EVEN THE WORMS TO HAVE!"

Although, he felt himself desiring to go and rip the man's throat out with his teeth, John continued to walk forward without looking back. Knowing now that even if they kept his offspring for their own devilish purposes, Erin was still marked for death, the Alpha knew that he had to consider both his next moves and that of his enemies if he hoped to protect her and his unborn child. With this in mind, he had no time to look back, but could only focus on the future, which meant that he had to see his mate as soon as possible.

* * *

I was on the bus heading home, my belly feeling larger than it ever had in a life where I had never been without one, when John Wick's voice came flooding through my head, loud and clear. I'd been expecting to hear from him, having sensed a flash of fear and outrage from him moments before. The worst part about the baby having strengthened our soulbond to the point where we felt each other's emotions was that in John's line of work he often dealt with feelings which were unsettling. The fact that I had to wait for him to contact me, so I would not distract him during a perhaps pivotal and fateful moment, was painful. On that particular day, however, my second last one at ErosPsyche before my matetnity leave, it had come with far more strength, making me particularly anxious. The baby was even aware of it. The bun in the oven gave their half baker another hearty kick before the other chef's voice entered my thoughts.

 _"I need to see you tonight,"_ John stated.

 _"You know where I'll be. Anything wrong?"_ I asked.

 _"There's something I need to give you,"_ he replied.

 _"I'll be there soon,"_ I told my Alpha.

_"That's fine. I have something I need to take care of first."_

_"Good. The other thing you gave me just kicked."_

_"Want me to tell it to behave?"_

_"We both will,"_ I replied. _"On the count of three: One, Two, Three."_

 _"BEHAVE!"_ we both said in unison and I could almost picture our baby pouting in my womb.

 _"I love you, John,"_ I said.

 _"See you soon, Erin,"_ my Alpha said in response and then was gone.

I looked around the bus and at the few people on it and wiped the burgeoning tears away from my eyes at the silence. Maybe it was because I was getting even more emotional than usual, but not hearing John say that he loved me was beginning to get to me. As my time to give birth was nearing, I felt this fear growing inside of me, a premonition that something bad was about to happen and John would be taken from me without saying those three little words or I would die without hearing them. Of course, with my OCD that feeling wasn't _new_ and I kept telling myself that it was the same feeling that would pop up saying I'd cause John to not block an opponent's knife jab if I didn't shut my bottom drawer at work just right.

But the feeling remained, no matter, how many times I tried to push it away and I just couldn't wait until tomorrow evening when I could just stay at the apartment and try to avoid the rest of mankind.

Except for John Wick.

* * *

"You've got to be kidding me, John," Charlie the Cleaner remarked after stepping into room 818 at the Continental with his two intimidating associates.

"No. I want you to clean it for me," the assassin said, dropping the item into the older man's hand.

Charlie looked at the object resting on his palm and grimaced. "You called me up here...for this?"

"Yeah," John Wick said, knowing it would seem foolish to the professional clean up man but having his own important reasons.

"Come on," Charlie commented, looking to the two large employees he had brought with him. "Couldn't you go out in the corridor and kill someone so we didn't drag ourselves up here for just _this_?" He held up the cause for the visit with the same irritated confusion.

"No, that's it. Besides we're on consecrated ground. I've made that mistake once before."

Charlie looked at the item again and then shook his head.

"I'll pay you the cost of a reservation for twelve," John Wick coaxed. "If you do it."

"Done," Charlie said. "Just show me to the John, John."

* * *

I waited for my Alpha to arrive at the apartment, curious in regards to what he was going to give me and scared about the reason for his own fright earlier in the day and why he deemed it so important. When he came to the window it was open for him and he slid inside quickly.

He came over to where I was standing and kissed me lovingly.

"In the bedroom," he instructed and I walked to it with his arm resting on my back, supporting me.

Even though most sex acts had now become out of the question, on advice from the Doctor, the bedroom was still as sacred to us as the Continental was to Winston. I sat on the bed, as John shut the door behind him, giving us one more level of privacy. The Alpha then sat down on the bed beside me and took my hand. Turning it so the palm faced upwards, he gently placed something on it; I knew before even looking down that it was metal and circular in shape. When I finally lowered my gaze to it, I saw that on the front of the object (a locket or watch?) there had been intricately carved the profile of a skull. Above it was a crown and surrounding it were vines with grapes. On its rim sat a long sharp protusion.

I looked up at John Wick for an answer which he quickly gave. "It's a marker. Mine. The same one that I gave to Santino D'Antonio to help me with the impossible task and that he unfortunately called in and which led to my fall."

Now, months having passed since he had mentioned the man named Cassian to me, I knew the whole complicated story and how it had not only started with Helen Wick's death but at the beginning of her life with John too. I immediately opened the marker to find the bloody fingerprints that had heralded so much pain were now gone. In it's place was a small electronic device.

"I had it cleaned," John said. I closed it again and looked into my mate's very somber eyes. "What's inside is a tracking device. I want you to have it now, Erin. Incase they find you. You might be able to barter with it."

John took it out of my hand and quickly pricked his finger on the pin and left his bloody fingerprint inside before placing it back on to my palm.

"What happened today that made you so frightened?" I asked in a whisper.

"I saw the anger that lay underneath the stillest of waters," he answered.

Looking down at it again, I saw the strange design. "What does it mean?"

John leaned forward and pointed at the skull. "That is common to all markers. The latin means blood debt. The vines with grapes represent prosperity and the crown royalty. Those are unique to this particular marker. This was the marker given to my father by an earlier Table. It is the only thing I have of him."

"Oh, John," I muttered. "Are you sure you want me to have this?"

He nodded. "You're the _only_ person I want to. Besides, as I said before, it might help you bargain with someone if they find you. It will help me to find you as well."

"But it was your father's," I argued.

"It would benefit me more if it kept the two of you safe "

Biting my lip, I blinked away tears and studied the silver carvings again. "A crown because he was the leader of the Ruska Roma?" I mused.

"No," John stated. "Because he was of royalty: the King of the gypsies. "

I raised my head to meet my lover's eyes in shock.

"His blood was royal," he explained further. "He might have been a true King except for his exile."

"That would make you a..."

John Wick smiled ruefully. "Only an assassin, Erin. I'm only an assassin. I'll never amount to anything else."

"Wrong. You are my mate and the father of our child too," I added proudly.

"That's all that I want to be, Erin."

I was moved to the point where I began to weep and John brought his wounded hand to my cheek, keeping the bloody thumb pointed away so as not to stain me. I grabbed his hand and kissed it. "I love you, John," I said once more.

* * *

He said it without meaning to.

Erin was sitting there, with their child only weeks away from making its journey from outside of her tummy and into their arms, and she looked very sweet and beautiful with the life they had both created. Her eyes and her tears were just two more professions of her love for him and they led him to commit his own vocal one, at last.

"I love you, Erin," John Wick said.

He felt his stomach descend as his soul headed in the opposite direction, for he knew he might have cursed his lover, the baby and himself but it felt good to finely give voice to the feelings in his heart.

She was smiling at him as if he had just turned water into wine or brought a dead man back to life and John Wick carressed her cheek knowing she had been needing to hear those three little words very desperately for a long time now.

So he said them again.

And then another time.

For if he had just accidentally damned them all, then the least he could do was make her happy in the time before fate came collecting and enjoy the bright smile on her face everytime that he said them.

A smile which almost made it worth the pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Keanu;
> 
> I am so nervous! My sleep test is tonight!
> 
> Last night, in an attempt to not be as nervous, I read articles online, supposed to help me not be nervous. 
> 
> They only made me *more* nervous!
> 
> One stated, something that it might be disturbing to think about someone watching you sleep all night on a monitor. Shoot! I was just thinking of being recorded. The thought that somebody will be watching me sleeping all night never really sank in before! They added that they'll be seeing me do all those embarrassing things that are done while you're asleep and unaware. :O
> 
> And then they listed all of the electrodes and where they will be going! There are so many! How am I supposed to fall asleep like that? :/ And if I don't sleep, I fail! :O It's not like a blood test or something else. This is depending on me doing something that I can't actually do on command and an act which gives me trouble sometimes.
> 
> Hence the reason for the sleep test. :/
> 
> Another thing, I've never actually slept away from my house, even for a sleepover when I was a little girl.
> 
> And the only person I ever wanted to have a sleepover with then was this boy named Jordan that I was in love with. But when I suggested it to my mom and sister they became so upset, I just felt ashamed instead so that was the end of sleepovers for me.
> 
> The only time I actually slept away from home, in my life, was when I was with my mom at the Palliative Care unit about six years ago. I couldn't sleep then because it was too disturbing really: the whole situation. My mom was dying and the rest home where she had been brought might as well have been a spacecraft, it was so alien to me and unlike the settings of my life and relationship with my mother.
> 
> I prefer thinking of when I'd have a nightmare and she'd sleep by my side. The first nightmare I can ever remember having was of this big dragon destroying a village. There were these knights trying to fight. I can still remember the fire coming out of its mouth and the poor knights as they lost.
> 
> After that, my mom used to pretend there was a dream jukebox and I'd put an imaginary coin in for the dream that I wanted. It didn't always work but it made me feel better.
> 
> I'm getting off track though. Anyway, I'm not used to sleeping somewhere else!
> 
> And, let's face it, if there is any strange bed that I want to wake up in, it would be yours.
> 
> Much love,  
> Erin  
> XO XO  
> 🙏😴❤


	34. Behind Another Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My last day at ErosPsyche doesn't go as well as I had hoped.

In the morning, I awoke and found John still sleeping by my side. My fingers trailed his naked back and the tattoos gracing it. I loved the feeling of his skin underneath my fingertips and the way that his body was moving gently up and down from his peaceful sleep.

When his eyes eventually opened and met mine, he started to touch the soft skin on my shoulder. "Hey," he greeted. "You okay?"

I nodded. "But when the day comes when I can wake up beside you every morning, I'll be even better."

"Me with you too," John Wick said and kissed my forehead, before nuzzling his head into the crook of my neck and taking in my scent.

* * *

The Omega's scent lingered with the Alpha while he committed the day's hits. He kept time of the passing minutes, mindful of when his mate's final day at Sweethearts would be finished. The feeling of foreboding had not left him since he had finally told her that he loved her. He had accidentally tempted fate and fate had never been known to not accept a dare from their favorite target. John knew that he would be far more relieved when Erin could rest and, more importantly, stay away from people. Those creations of God, whose own relationship with Fate had been left undecided in his mind, were always true angels, at best, devils, at worst, and unpredicatable animals in between.

* * *

I counted the minutes at work. John's marker was kept safely inside of my bra, close to my heart, the pin on it was safely retracted and his voice was often in my head, offering me love and strength as time went by.

There were very few warm wishes from my co-workers, on the other hand. They only nodded here and there and then returned to ignoring me. They were good at it by now and I didn't really grieve over the fact, but welcomed it instead.

Near the end of the workday, I was surprised when I arrived at my desk to find a card and a present. Opening the card, I saw a drawing of a stork and a baby done in that vintage style I was familiar with from "Lady and the Tramp" and the cards my mom had received for my sister and my own's birth.

_**I might have fucked up. Books are my life not people. But I'mglad that your bringing another miserable bundle into the world. You can tell the father that too.** _

**_Ivy_ **

I watched as the ink became wet, large raindrops landing on Bunker's elegant scrawl and realized that I was crying. I opened the box and found a little yellow baby's blanket, with images of puppies playing on its soft, warm surface.

With no more than fifteen minutes left, I received a summons to Chris' office and I managed to rise to my feet and stumble to see ErosPsyche's editor, whom was waiting inside of it for once. His eyes rested on me, while I walked through the door, and I thought I saw a look enter his eyes that wasn't the usual amusement that he afforded my current condition. Actually, I had seen that look a lot during the final trimester of my pregnancy and more so since he had returned from yet another business trip out of the country. It was a confused and slightly perturbed look and it made me nervous remembering the Alpha's anger when he had smelt another Alpha on me before.

It was another reason that I was grateful my leave was occurring in a manner of minutes.

"There's my favorite mom now," Chris said, looking far happier with a smile momentarily crossing his face before I came nearer and the disconcerting look returned for a few seconds. "How you doing?"

"Frightened," I replied, which was the truth.

"Why? People have been having babies for millennia now...just take it as it comes," the man said, rising from his desk and walking towards me. "I still haven't met the father though."

"Maybe after," I stated.

I noted a look of annoyance in the Editor's eyes. "That's what you always say, ' _after_ ,'" he said his voice sounding tense and almost a growl, something that seemed to surprise Christopher as much as the person he had used it on. "Sorry," he apologized and shook his head. "I'm an overworked, underpaid and cranky old Alpha bastard."

Though his desk was covered in papers, I didn't completely buy his reasonings and found my natural maternal guard emerging.

"It's all right," I said, knowing that I was a second away from hissing and that I was probably close to emmitting my scent in fear.

Chris continued to walk closer and his gait seemed casual yet somehow menacing.

"That's what is always so nice about you, Erin: you're sweet and kind," he said, touching my shoulder in the same place where John had touched me in the morning. His nostrils flared as he stepped closer and I saw him taking in a scent that I mistook for my fear.

Then his eyes dropped to the marker in my bra and my heart froze. There was recognition like fire and vengeance and the grip on my shoulder tightened to the point of being painful.

"What did you say your Alpha's name was again?" Christopher asked and the growl was at the edges of each word.

My eyes went to the photographs on the wall, seeing the numerous shots of Italy and finally resting on the cold eyes of the Omega my boss had loved and lost hanging above the desk, where he could keep her forever near him. They then dropped down to the files that I saw sprawled out on the Editor's desk; files I was never meant to see.

The one name appearing over and over on so many of them hit me like a strike from a clenched fist.

"John," I whispered before shouting inside of my head a much louder repetition, " _JOHN_!"

"That's right," my boss said, a smile most cruel and satisfied claiming his face.

_"ERIN! WHAT'S HAPPENING?"_

_"MY..."_

Christopher grabbed my blouse and tore it open...

_"BOSS..."_

With swift speed his hand reached in to my bra and grabbed the marker as I tried to fight him.

 _"HE'S...AHHHHHHH!"_ I screamed both out loud and inside of my head as the man made the pin emerge and it cut into the soft flesh of my breast, stopping my struggle.

_"ERIN!?!"_

The man I knew as Christopher looked at the marker and then me in triumph as his free hand came towards my face.

_"CAS..."_

* * *

John Wick stopped his frantic run in Central Park. It was where he had been when Erin's cry had reached him and when he had started to run. The marker's tracker had worked in successfully telling him in which direction to head until it had died shortly after his Omega's voice had gone silent. Standing in the middle of the park where once Winston had handed him the same marker, an act which precipitated his own running, John felt more helpless than even the day which had witnessed his excommunicado status.

At least, then, he had been running for his own life only.

Now it was needed for him to save both Erin and his unborn child's life. However, he had no idea where he was running to with the tracker now presumably destroyed.

Instantly, the assassin grabbed his phone and it was answered after only a few seconds. "Jonathan?"

"They have Erin," John Wick stated, having little proof but certain of it nonetheless. "She called out to me...something about her boss. Then I didn't hear anything else."

"Do you know where she is?"

"Yeah: a romance publishing company called Sweethearts. I was hoping you'd tell me where it is."

There was a momentary silence. "No such company exists in all of New York City, Jonathan."

"DAMNIT!" John Wick cursed loudly, earning several stares and a flight of pigeons taking to the sky behind him.

"That reminds me though..."

"What?"

"That day when you saw us, I bumped into her outside of the Administration building. I thought she had just come out of it. I would have investigated it further but then you were so angry and Leuce almost killed me."

John Wick clenched the phone tighter in his hand before beginning to run again, remembering the vow of a certain small, pierced and short sighted man whom could finally turn out to be useful.

* * *

"NO APPOINTMENT; NO ADMITTANCE!"

Wick walked to the door, not heeding the shouted warning of the secretary and kicked it open with the strength of the rage inside of him. The Administrator raised his eyes from off of the folder in front of him. From the smug look on the bureaucrat's face and the force with which he brought the stamp in his hand down on it, the assassin knew it was the one he had come there for.

Looking at the High Table worker, John Wick raised his Heckler and Koch P30L and shot the man right between his bespectacled eyes.

The operator to his left, still standing and waiting for the return of the file so she could return it to the archive, began to scream as she was sprayed with her boss's blood, but the Alpha ignored her, striding towards the desk to pull the file out from his former handler's now deceased body.

Gazing at the image of his Omega staring back at him, smeared with the bureaucrat's blood, John fought his pain, sorrow and fear, knowing it could not help her. Instead he looked primarily for two things which could.

The first was found quickly and with relief:

**CAPTURA**

The word was not comforting but was far better than **TERMINABITUR** and offered some hope. Glancing at the rest of the file, John Wick swallowed as he saw the one secret Erin had insisted on keeping from him. It was her shame, and probably self doubt, he knew, that had led to her motivation and unfortunate capture due to it. If she would have only known that he would have loved her regardless of the fact that she typed up other writer's pornography for a living, he could have possibly saved her beforehand.

John Wick looked at the name ErosPsyche and saw the familiar address beneath it. Ripping the photograph of his lover from off of the file, not wanting to think of it being returned to the dark and unfeeling file room after the Administrator's body had been attended to, John placed it safely in his pocket and rushed past the group of gathering operators and out to his Mustang.

* * *

"She worked at ErosPsyche," John informed Winston, as he sped down the darkening streets.

"Dear lord..."

"Winston?"

"I never did tell you whom the new editor is there, did I?" Winston said in regret and terror.

* * *

The building to ErosPsyche was very much as the Alpha had remembered it from his few visits, both in the company of Helen and without. He thought of Erin coming to the seedy offices and felt a wave of protectiveness and compassion. She had spent her uneventful time in New York, a virgin, typing up other people's erotic adventures. No wonder she had been willing to consider and eventually accept the sexual offer of a blood soaked hitman whom had shown up at her window. But if she had only told him no instead of yes, John knew that she would now be safe and not in the hands of his enemies.

Carefully, he took the stairs up to the floor where the file had said the Omega worked as a transcriber. His gun was out and prepared but he heard no sounds, even though he knew that the sun having set would not have prevented the Table's company to stop working.

In fact, it was probably when its true face was shown; one Erin had been ignorant to.

Stepping on to the floor, the Alpha made his way down the hallways and corridors with caution, looking out for the occassional camera he took out of the way with a gunshot. The place seemed dead but it only raised Wick's sense of imminent danger. Something had caused the workers to be evacuated.

Eventually, he reached the office he had once known well. He could smell the scent of Erin's fear and blood coming to him from under the door which now read "Christopher Sancais" instead of "Ivy Bunker." He managed to push it open slowly and with none of the fury and terror that was claiming him.

The smell becoming stronger as he walked into the room, but John did not see the beloved owner of that scent. A man was sitting casually on the desk, obviously waiting for him. The marker the assassin had given Erin the night before was raised calmly in his hand. John Wick met the Editor of ErosPsyche's eyes and discovered that he had only hated a handful of other people even half as much in his life as he did his former friend.

"Hello John," Cassian greeted. "So nice, at last, to meet my favorite Omega's one and only Alpha."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Keanu;
> 
> Well this week following my sleep study was filled with lows and highs. Some really bad things happened but also some tremendously beautiful things too. 
> 
> The lows, after the sleep study, had to do with my writing here. I almost thought about giving up, to be painfully honest. 
> 
> Then, I thought about how maybe one day you'll see these and they will make you happy. Or maybe that you already do and if I stopped you might be sad. So, when I think of that, it gives me the strength and courage to continue.
> 
> Maybe we'd be like Barton Fink and his beautiful woman on the beach. Only in a sex reversal because I could never fool myself into thinking I was beautiful. But even though that picture isn't as perfect as Barton thinks it is, and they both are wounded and alone in their own ways, I do believe that they understand each other because they have been hurt.
> 
> Even if they aren't facing one another, they can be there for each other too. All you really need to know is that someone is there and that you can make them happy.
> 
> Much love,  
> Erin  
> XO XO  
> :D <3


	35. At the Hands of an Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Wick confronts Cassian inside the offices of ErosPsyche and learns the disturbing truth about my whereabouts...

John Wick stepped into the office, the blood of his mate making his nostrils not only flare but sear. They felt scorched both by the scent and the awareness that it meant the Omega bearing his child had been harmed. The knowledge made his brain go crazed with an anger that made the previous and legendary wrath of the Baba Yaga seem like some pale, weak creature in comparison. He desired to not only kill Cassian but to tear his corpse into a million pieces, throw them out the office window and then let the feet of a thousand of New York City pedestrians further desecrate and scatter the man's body with ignorant and unmindful lack of conscience, as they continued on, uncaring, with their own lives.

Something he no longer had.

To do this, though, meant he would be prevented in finding out where Gianna D'Antonio's former lover had taken Erin. Wick understood that every second mattered now. It wouldn't take the Table long to replace the Administrator with some person whom had been waiting in line, coveting the position. Nor would it take very long for the stranger to stamp Erin's folder with one dreaded word if he failed in reaching her in time.

Feeling Erin's photograph safe where he had placed it, the assassin aimed his gun at the other Alpha and took two steps to the side, while Cassian continued to sit on the desk, looking just as self satisfied as when he had first opened the door to meet with his beloved Omega's boss and betrayer.

"Where is she?" John Wick demanded.

"You know, I really have to give you credit," Cassian ignored the question in order to muse, a trait common to most victors. John could finally understand the reason for it then as he was deep within his own loss. The act of winning itself had given the blessed that particularly frustrating luxury while denying it to the far less fortunate. While, as a loser, he could only stand there and feel every single second ticking away, John Wick knew that his erstwhile friend could sit before him, as relaxed and comfortable as a favorite shirt. Time didn't matter to Cassian. He had already secured what he had wanted: John Wick's pain.

"I really have to give you credit," the winner continued. "Even when all the clues were there, even your first name and her reluctance to mention much about you or have us meet, I didn't really see it. I love Erin but she's far from your type, John. She's so quiet and shy. You'd forget about her if she didn't let you get close enough to start to care. But that's what made her so perfect, right? When you could have had the most sparkling mate the Table could offer, you chose just one more overweight, insignificant woman in the city; one just trying to make ends meet. Bravo..."

Cassian clapped his hands twice, very slowly, but then stopped, his amusement fading. "You had a good night there for a while. All of those heats...her pregnancy. But now it's my time, John Wick."

"How did you find out?" John asked, hoping to learn from the bodyguard's gloating what had happened to cause the scent of Erin's blood to fill the office and taunt him with her suffering.

"I'd been sensing you on her for months," Cassian replied. "Must have been the baby. It has your blood too, after all. It was the marker, though, that really did it," he said holding the silver medallion up. "You might have had your blood washed clean of it, like Gianna's off your hands, but you could never do it well enough. I've been after it for so long now, it's all I ever smell...all I ever _crave_."

Staring at the calmly smug Alpha, Jardani Jovonovich thought he understood one thing: he was as much to blame for Erin's capture as the current editor of ErosPsyche was. He should never have told her that he loved her, John Wick admonished himself for with extreme sadness; he had sealed her doom when he had spoken the words. Fate indeed had been tempted with one single mistake and now it planned to make him pay for having evaded it for so long.

Just as Cassian intended also.

John Wick looked at the marker given to Erin the night before and his finger almost tightened on the trigger. He could smell her blood coating it and loathed himself once more for having caused his beloved Omega pain. He refrained from finishing the movement of his finger for the sole reason that he still barely knew what had happened or where he could find her and Cassian was perversely his major source of hope.

Cassian smiled and placed the marker safely back in the pocket of his work shirt. "Wise move, John. I don't really care if I die; I've got what I wanted. But it won't do you any damn good to kill me. Wise move indeed.

John kept his mouth shut, hanging on every syllable that the enemy could confess.

His smile fading, the one time bodyguard's expression became one of almost bitter regret and repentance. "As much as I appreciate the wisdom of your choice of mates, I still hate that it had to be her. It meant that I couldn't do it myself," he stated with some degree of pain. "I had dreamt of that for months...then to find out it was Erin...damn it. It was impossible to hurt her myself. I do care for her, John. It's impossible not to. Just not as much as I loved Gianna. Or the possibility of doing as much damage to you as you fuckin' did to me.

"I do feel bad about it though. Erin's sweet...What did her eyes look like after she had come? I always used to wonder that."

Blinking rapidly, John Wick thought of the many times he had seen the Omega climax beneath him or in his arms and how he had fallen into them like a swimmer crashing into the clear waters of some unnamed ocean in some more perfect world. He had gotten lost in them, fully aware of and well pleased by the pleasure he had given to her and his increasing hunger for it.

"Like falling into heaven," he replied simply.

Cassian nodded. "She has nice eyes...and I say ' _has_ ' because she's still out there. Not that you'll get to her in time or see her again. At least, not all in one piece. I could have handed her straight over to one of the twelve. I know for a fact, from that little nebbish over at Administration, that it would have been nasty enough what they had planned. Bureaucrat's got a big mouth when he gets drunk enough."

" _Had_ ," John Wick corrected.

Cassian nodded. "Took care of that already?"

It was Wick's turn to nod.

"No big loss; never could stand the little prick," the other man said. "But taking Erin to the Table wouldn't have been good enough. They are very powerful, John, but they are also hopelessly lacking in imagination. Especially these days. Ever notice that?"

"Yeah," John agreed.

"I thought you would. But then we've always been a lot alike."

"No," John Wick hissed in offense.

"Come on, John," Cassian stated. "You know that, right now, if my mate was eight months pregnant and I had hurt either Helen or Erin, she'd be dead by now." He suddenly rose from the desk, his eyes burning with their own wounded rage. "Oh, I'm sorry...she already _is_."

With frightening speed, the former bodyguard threw the bloody marker at the assassin. The pin landed and hit John Wick in his hand, becoming embedded there and causing a pain that was more annoying than damaging to shoot up his arm. What was grating, as well, was the fact that he could do very little to Cassian before the man revealed what he had decided to do with Erin, John realized. Shooting was an option but nothing that could be fatal; hitting him was another choice, but nothing so violent that would render him unconscious and unable to reveal what he had done with the pregnant Omega. So, when the man lunged at his legs, John Wick let him drop him to the floor not sure of what else he actually could do.

The two Alphas struggled for a while until John realized that Cassian was aware of his plight and using it to his advantage. He saw that the editor was also equally aware of the importance of the seconds quickly passing and was trying to knock him unconscious first, allowing others the time to take the necessary steps for his revenge and to gain a distance too great for the enemy to be able to reach his mate in time.

With a roar, John Wick grabbed the bodyguard's neck and rolled over, until he was the one on top and with the power. With another twist, he was behind Cassian, his arm placed around the same neck he had been clutching three seconds before. Realizing he was in danger of cutting off his opponent's oxygen supply, John brought them both to their feet in one fluid movement and went to change the position of his hands to rest under each of Cassian's arms, locking him in place. It was during this act, that Cassian bent and used his full force to throw the Baba Yaga over his shoulders. On his back on the floor, John looked up to see his former ally reaching into his jacket pocket, presumably for his gun. Without missing a beat, Wick grabbed the man's legs and pulled them forward, making Cassian fall into the same position on to his back.

The assassin rose to his feet quickly and stumbled out of the door as Cassian fired off a shot and managed to graze the side of his leg.

Ignoring another dose of irritating but hardly lethal pain, John Wick went to the main work space of the High Table front, where his lover had secretly worked, and fell down behind a desk situated in the middle of the room, briefly wondering if it was the one belonging to her. Soon after, he watched as Cassian entered the room and he shot at the editor, grazing his hip.

"Another eye for an eye?" Cassian asked.

"No," John replied. "A reminder that I can play the game too."

"Oh, I know you can. That's why I had all my employees take their pencils and shit with them when they left. I'm not afraid of dying but I'd still rather it not be at your hands. You'll want to kill me when I let you know where I shipped Erin and the baby to, John."

"WHERE?" the hitman shouted in fury.

Once more, Cassian didn't bother to reply. He strolled casually around the office while John stayed crouched behind the desk.

"I won't mind not working here anymore," Gianna's lover confessed. "Taking care of the Table's trafficking and drowning in people's poorly written trash all day. That's what made her never tell you, huh? She was too ashamed. I can dig that."

John Wick closed his eyes hard enough to cause pain. He thought once again of his mate hiding her true job from him, her unnecessary shame, and he wished that he could see her again to tell her that it wouldn't have mattered.

" _ERIN_!" he called out, hoping she would hear, but silence was all which came back to him and it was enough to send his thoughts and emotions into another tailspin of complete and utter chaos.

"Luckily, I won't be needing to wade tgrough it anymore," Cassian informed. "He's promised to promote me once she has been delivered."

John Wick sat with his back against the drawers, listening to Cassian's footfalls but not speaking, knowing that his enemy wanted him to shout out, asking who, and consequently reveal where he was.

"He's been after you for a while now. Boiling under the sun, festering on his rage at your feigned act of compliance. Just like I was at your false friendship."

John Wick's eyes widened as his tongue felt cracked, dried and coated with sand from within the safety of his memory.

A desert.

A caravan.

An army of servants all ready to die for their leader.

John Wick saw a man sitting like a god in his tent, the ring he had taken from him still in his possession like a trophy. It stayed forever on his person just as he had often heard rumors that the man's father had kept the wedding rings of both Jardani Igor Jovonovich and his wife on a golden chain worn around his neck as well.

"The Elder did not appreciate you lying to his face, John," Cassian commented calmly. "You promised fealty to him and then went back on your word. He allowed you to be readmitted into the fold but that was only for show and to keep his enemy close. He's been waiting for his perfect opportunity to get his own revenge. Another fact the Administrator let slip. At the time, I wanted to tell him to send a message to get in line. Now it turned out to be useful."

The footfalls suddenly resumed but this time in a direction opposite to where John was sitting and trembling in his unspent hatred.

"Maybe I should just go and make sure that the parcel is safely on its way to the destination," the ex bodyguard said. "No point staying here. You're linked to Erin; you'll know when she's dead. That's enough."

The sound of a door closing was heard and when John Wick raised his head he found the room empty.

Falling back behind the desk, the Alpha held his head in his hands, trying to process the information offered.

Erin was being taken to the Elder.

She had probably already reached the airport, considering the time it had taken for him to go to the Administration building and then to ErosPsche. Wasted time fumbling in the dark, John Wick knew.

As if in cruel reminder, the clock on the office wall ticked loudly and John realized it was the same hand moving that Erin had probably watched tick away all day before what she had erroneously believed was to be her maternity leave. The noise was growing steadily louder until John Wick looked up to find Cassian standing on the desk behind him, holding the large round timepiece in his hands. The editor brought it down on his head in one forceful blow.

Afforded no opportunity to find his bearings, Cassian jumped on the assassin, quickly grabbing his head and opening one of the desk's drawers. Repeatedly the other Alpha slammed the drawer shut on John Wick's head and the beaten Baba Yaga saw his vision blurring while he desperately fought to stay concious. Wick felt the Heckler and Koch P30L being yanked out of his grasp and then thrown as he was also tossed to the ground where a shoe instantly was rammed into his balls and then brought down on to his stomach.

Trying to catch his breath after the attacks, Wick found the same shining loafer pressing down on his larynx and found all air being denied to him.

"Second thought, John..." Cassian stated, aiming his gun at the hitman's head. "Maybe I should just put you out of your misery now before you have to live without her...I know how painful that is..."

John Wick wanted to beg for Erin's life, and that of their child, but the words could not come out. Blackness was slowly seizing his vision and he hated that the final sight offered to him would be that of the man whom had betrayed the woman he loved when movement suddenly came swift and unexpected behind his attacker. His vision returning, as the foot was removed from off of his throat, Cassian grabbing for his own in return, John Wick finally was able to make out the shape of the two pencils rammed into either side of the man's neck. Blood gushing out from around the yellow pieces of wood, Cassian was soon also brought down by a blow to the back of his head from the handle of the retrieved P30L.

As Cassian lay unconscious on the floor, crimson fluid pooling around him, John Wick looked with gratitude into the green pea eyes of Helen's beloved godmother.

"Hello John Wick," Ivy Bunker said, disapproval still evident in her voice, as it had been on the day he had married her only goddaughter.

"Ivy," John managed to whisper in a voice that was hoarse and still experiencing the phantom of Cassian's foot pressing down on it.

"I wish I could say it is nice to see you but it never is," the woman said sadly.

John Wick rushed to his feet, towering over the small woman and staring down at her in his own sorrow.

"Don't waste your fucking guilt on me," Bunker spat. "Don't blame yourself either, that's my job and everyone else damned enough to have met you. You're a killer; I warned Helen about that. I tried to warn Erin too. But some women fall for that type of bullshit. Now go and put it to use! Go and save your Omega you, FUCKIN' KILLER!"

Stepping over the still bleeding body of Cassian, John Wick began to run just as a familiar voice and much loved voice cried out inside of his head.

_"JOHN! WHERE AM I?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Keanu;
> 
> I'm about beat right now. I posted/updated 16 days in a row! I'm going to take a break before tackling the next chapter of "NoBody But You."
> 
> I also get my CPAP machine. I'm scared about that. Please wish me luck! I know you don't read these but wherever you are send a prayer up for the chubby, shy woman who writes these stories, loves you a whole lot and is very very nervous! 
> 
> I'll try to be strong and just do it. I want to be healthy so I can continue writing these and maybe meet you some day. That last one is not very likely but a whole lot more likely if I'm still breathing. But I'm so shy and I keep having to see people! You're shy too. Or, at least, you used to be. I'll try to think of that and how you have dealt with that same thing. 
> 
> Much love,  
> Erin  
> XO XO  
> :D <3


	36. Inside of a Doll Inside of a Doll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Wick and I communicate as he tries to form a plan to save me from the Elder.

I opened my eyes to see only black and as the memory of what had happened inside Christopher's office returned, the first coming towards by face and the eventual envelopment of darkness, my first thought was given to the child within me. Not concerned with anything else, my hand went directly to my large, rounded stomach and I quickly felt a kick in return and was flooded with relief. The baby must have been startled by the quickening beating of my heart, following a time of apparent peace, while I had been unconcious.

"Shhh..." I said, trying to soothe them and hoping to do so with myself in return. My hand shot out to my sides and felt walls all close around while the only sound that greeted me was a low hum.

In the darkness, not knowing what else to do, my thoughts frantically raced to my Alpha to help me see clearly where I had been made hopelessly blind.

 _"JOHN! WHERE AM I?"_ I screamed so loudly inside of my thoughts that the baby kicked inside of me again.

* * *

Bursting into the stairway, still not trusting the elevator, John Wick heard Erin's voice travel from his mind straight to his heart. He grabbed onto the bannister if for no other reasons than to keep himself steady and, more urgently, because he could not hold on to his mate.

 _"They're taking you to see the Elder,"_ John answered, descending the staircase.

_"John, my boss is Cassian."_

_"I just found out. He's been fired."_

_"You?"_ she asked.

_"No. Ivy Bunker."_

A pause before Erin replied sardonically, _"Well, she always did want the job..."_

 _"She was Helen's godmother,"_ John Wick said, entering ErosPsyche's lobby and heading towards the exit.

* * *

The photographs that Bunker would constantly replace Chris' artwork with whenever she moved into the office suddenly made complete sense. As did her seeming knowledge of John Wick and her veiled warnings. Ivy's attempt to fire me also came clear: fearing Cassian would learn the identity of my mate, she had tried to save us all in the only way she could see.

I suddenly felt like a horrible fool, just as blind outside and under full light as I was inside of the box and lost to its darkness.

 _"I was such an idiot,"_ I mewled, holding the swell of my tummy where our child was still kicking. _"I should have seen...I should have told you...but I was too embarrassed..."_

* * *

Hearing the shame and self recrimination in his Omega's already frightened voice, John stepped out on to the street and made his way towards the parked Mustang.

 _"Don't,"_ he started to croon, hoping it would soften the self hatred and doubt that was usually lurking somewhere close inside her thoughts. _"You didn't know. It doesn't matter."_

More silence as he opened the car's door and slid into the seat.

 _"But our baby,"_ Erin finally cried and his heart broke, knowing that she was drowning in her OCD thoughts and being mercilessly beaten by the bully that she constantly lived with. He clutched the steering wheel painfully hard. He was fighting his own feelings of failure and self loathing, the assassin clearly recognized. All the fear, guilt, desperation and grief that he had experienced during Helen's illness and death was returning with full force to him. He was threatening to collapse under the weight and be unhinged by his own personal tormentor, which constantly whispered that he would not be able to rescue Erin and their unborn child.

But Ivy had been right. His guilt was useless and as much of an enemy and obstacle as Cassian had been.

 _"We're going to strike a deal, Erin,"_ John Wick said, staring the engine and staring straight ahead of him at the mostly thankfully vacant street which still provided no destination with Erin obviously already on her way to the enemy. _"You do your best to protect the life inside of you and I will come and save you."_

* * *

I could see what John was trying to do for me. Though we were possibly many miles separated now, he was trying to fight the demons that haunted me and turn my guilt into purpose. My blame was useless on its own. Having suffered through his own in regards to Helen, John was facing his own self reproach and hatred. But fearful and lethal Baba Yaga that he was, he could also focus on what was needed to survive in order to make it through the horrible situation we had fallen into.

And that would always be each other.

An image came to me strongly then of a toy I had seen once on a Childrens' program called Mr Dressup. The wooden doll was painted simply in red and possessed a fat oblong body with neither arms nor legs. A pretty little face had also been painted on the doll in a circle and I could remember wishing to be as pretty as she was someday.

In childhood delight, I had watched the doll being opened only to reveal a smaller identical one inside of her. The act was repeated until one like a tiny baby was revealed at the end.

I had spent my childhood wanting the toy and being somehow comforted by the feeling of a doll hidden within a doll, warm, safe and protected. But I had never found one in the toy stores nor one hiding beneath the tree on Christmas Day.

Now I thought, however, of John, myself and the baby as those dolls. I could keep our child safe, first by keeping myself calm and dealing with each event that occurred as it happened. If my first mission was to protect the baby at all costs, I could distance myself from a guilt that was only harmful to the baby within my womb as it was resting and unaware of what was going on. Meanwhile, I could picture myself as being safely inside the protection that John Wick, my Alpha, offered to me. Although, I was physically far away from him even now, I could still feel his arms wrapped strongly around me. Together we were the dolls I had desired throughout my youth and this fact would give me something comforting to hold on to.

 _"Like Russian dolls..."_ I thought and sent the thought to my Alpha.

* * *

John Wick thought of the dolls his Omega spoke of and smiled. Many of the young girls in his own caravan had possessed them. His father had even carved a few to give to the children of his followers. A subsequent unwanted memory of them lying bloodied in the snow besides the bodies of their owners came to Wick and he had to push it away before it caused him one more layer of pain to have to think past.

 _"Yeah, just like that,"_ he responded.

 _"I always wanted one,"_ Erin continued. _"They were simple yet beautiful. It always struck me as comforting somehow the way that they fit together."_

 _"Nesting dolls,"_ John Wick stated. _"Matryoshka."_

With that one word, the Alpha saw a destination suddenly appear on the road he was speeding down previously without direction.

 _"John?"_ he heard Erin ask in question, sensing that something had changed.

* * *

I felt a wave of hope surging through me after John had uttered his native word for the dolls that I loved. The baby was still acting as an amplifier between us, letting me feel my lover's emotions besides just having his thoughts inside of my head. Petting my tummy, I waited in silence, giving John time to tell me on his own.

_"I just thought of something."_

_"Can you tell me?"_

_"False hope can be worse than no hope,"_ came the reply.

_"Well, can you tell me what Matryoshka means then?" I asked._

_"That I can,"_ John Wick answered. _"It means Matron."_

* * *

The Tarkovsky Theatre was very much the same old building he had visited the night he went from hunter to hunted. Although, now they were performing "Petya i volk" it seemed.

This time, when he appeared at the ticket booth, he was granted admittance immediately and when he entered the lobby he was permitted to keep both his gun and his belt.

Erin was still with him but he had warned her already that his conversation might be stilted within the next few minutes. He could not bear telling her what he hoped to accomplish with his visit to the Director incase she found some solace in something that turned out to have never truly been an option. John could not tell what the director of the Tarkovsky's feelings for him would be. During the failed coupe with the Bowery King, he had learned that the Adjudicator had pronounced judgement on the matron of the theatre for the help he had forced her to give him.

And following his fall back into the High Table's embrace he had heard very little of either her or the theatre she ran to train assassins. He did not know if she would be willing to help him take on the Elder. And so it was best to let Erin still rely only on only her faith, self and him for any possible strength and courage.

As he was led to the Director's office, John Wick saw the curious gazes of the ballerinas falling upon him. No doubt, some of them remembered him from the last time and had thus come to associate him with trouble.

The younger students, the ones whom had never seen him before, took one look at the worried cast of his darkened eyes and took him for trouble still.

"Voyti," the Director stated and John Wick entered the woman's office, finding a fire lit in the fireplace just as before.

Seeing the desk and remembering the sensation of the cross being branded into his skin, John could almost smell it and feel the burning poker on his back.

 _"John?"_ Erin asked in concern, obviously feeling it too.

_"I'm all right."_

_"Are you sure?"_

_"No, not without you."_

The last confession made the Omega happy in spite her current plight and John Wick held onto the emotion while he stood and faced the woman whom had virtually raised him after he had become an orphan.

The woman with the raven hair and eyes of black opals, stared at him with little love but also a shortage of plain out acrimony and John tried not to hold on to the glimmer of hope, flickering as strongly as the flames dancing in the fireplace behind him.

"Jardani Jovonovich," the Director stated, leaning over the desk before her. "You grace this theatre only when you require something. Why have I not seen you joining your body to count amongst our audience? Are we so far beneath you now that you serve the Table?"

"Never," John returned. "I feared I might not be welcomed."

"Nyet," she replied. "You are welcomed once more under this roof. I shall extend an all seasons pass to you and your mate," she said, leaning back suddenly. "And your as yet to be born child."

The assassin tried not to blink from the reveal that she was well aware of his presence. News had apparently traveled quickly following Cassian's capture of his hidden mate and his murder of the Administrator for Erin's file.

"When we are reunited I will bring them here," the Alpha replied.

The Director laughed bitterly. "You will be going to their funeral, I suspect, before your Omega and the grandchild of Jardani Igor Jovonovich will ever grace the Tarkovsky."

"Help me avoid that!" John Wick stated, slamming his palms down forcefully on the desk.

The Director smiled a smile of distate. "I am sorry, my dear, Jardani...my hands are tied." She suddenly held up her hands, displaying proudly the scars from the Adjudicator's decision. "I have already suffered through one act of betraying the Table. Besides, even if you rescue your mate how long until they find all three of you? Find yourself another mate or another fool to help you but leave me be."

"I profess something far different now," the assassin explained calmly. "By the time I have Erin safely back with me, there will no longer _be_ a Table to betray. Or an Elder to go searching for us. With your present alumni and any of the graduated we stand a chance at a revolution."

The woman's eyes widened in shock. "You are planning an overthrow of the Elder himself. Just like your father?"

John Wick nodded. "Yes."

"I have helped raise an idiot!" she declared.

"No," her former ward replied. "There's a difference. I know there is no chance of survival for my family while the Elder lives. My father had a choice; I don't."

"They matter so much to you?"

"They are _everything_ to me," John answered, tears stinging his eyes.

The Director shrugged. "On the other hand, they mean _nothing_ to me. Why should I sacrifice my many children for only one of yours?"

"Because, if you do, you will no longer be under the High Table's control. You have seen the way things are changing; it will only become worse unless it is stopped. I am thinking of your children and their children's children's future."

One of the matron's eyebrows raised and stayed that way for five seconds before she dropped it once more and scowled at him in rejection. "I taught you once that false hope is as foolish as no hope. Did not your defeat with that damn fool the Bowery King prove that to you?" She abruptly stood from behind her desk and glared at him. "Leave this theatre and never return! We do not wish our name to be associated with you, Jardani! You shall bring upon us the curse that your father brought to his tribe!"

At yet another invocation of his father's memory, John Wick removed his hands from the table and eyed the Director in anger, feeling a sharp sting of hopelessness.

The feeling must have traversed the unknown distance between his mate and he, for in the next second he heard Erin's voice once again. _"Whatever just happened, John Wick, I want you to know that I believe in you. Don't listen to it. You are a brave and good man. And the only hero I have ever been blessed to know and to love."_

John Wick felt his heart pound and swell and comforted himself with the Omega inside of his heart.

Glaring at the Director, remembering her oftentimes cold raising of him, the Alpha saw clearly her cowardice and realized something about the father he had lost.

"If one man fights a war and he loses, it's _his_ loss alone," John Wick hissed at her. "But my father fought with many people...including some from your own tribe, I have heard..."

Seeing the Director's eyes widen in surprised fright, John Wick saved his gloating for some other time more intent on stating his judgment.

"But he bore the shame himself," the Alpha continued. "At least, now, I realize that he was fighting for a better way of life for all of us below and under the Table's ruling. He saw the horror of what it was and what it could become. In his mind maybe there was no other choice either. MAYBE WHAT HE DID HE DID SO THAT NOBODY WOULD HAVE TO SUFFER WHAT I AM GOING THROUGH NOW!"

John Wick raised his voice and stood tall, no longer willing to accept his father's shame nor willing to give it to the man long dead either. "At least, he was brave enough to risk failure for his children. Not like _you_."

Without nodding or turning back, Jardani Sacha Jovonovich walked towards the door and left the Director behind him, hearing the sound of her hastily falling back into the chair before he left.

* * *

 _"Is it all right to talk now?"_ I asked John, it being several minutes since I had experienced any strong emotion from him other than his concern for me.

_"Yeah."_

_"Are you okay? Oh, sorry,"_ I said remembering his earlier heartwarming statement to that question.

_"Things didn't work out."_

_"Oh,"_ I replied. _"Can I help?"_

I could sense John's amusement past his pain. _"You're in a crate on a plane somewhere. And you're asking me if you can help me?"_

 _"Stupid of me. Sorry,"_ I apologized again.

_"Why? It's one of the reasons that I fell in love with you. How's the baby?"_

I stroked my belly again, wishing that I could peek inside just to make sure that my next word was true. _"Fine."_

_"Good...Look...I need you to be silent again. Where I'm going...I might not be wanted either."_

I smiled even though I was terrified about not communicating with my lover. All I said in return, however, was, _"See I can help you, after all, John Wick."_

Another little laugh before, _"You always do. I love you, Erin."_

 _"I love you too, John,"_ I thought softly.

* * *

John Wick was led by a scarred yet still recognizable acquaintance up to the rooftop. His guide would barely look at him and John tried to remember his previous words to the Director, that battles truly fought as a group were not one person's failure. Still, his choice to side with the enemy was not looked on favorably and Wick accepted the glares he was given and prepared himself for the encounter he had often hoped he could avoid.

As he came to stand before the man and his regrouped of subjects, mostly all containing feathers, wings and beaks, John Wick knew the words of greeting even before they were spoken.

"Why, you turn coat. You failure of an assassin and embarrassment to your creed and every poor soul that ever knew you! You dare seek an audience with me after what happened? After what you did? YOU BETTER SPIT OUT A SINGLE GOOD REASON WHY I SHOULDN'T KILL YOU NOW AND FEED YOU TO MY PIGEONS!" his highness the Bowery King bellowed, frightening away a few of his new followers in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Keanu;
> 
> Well, it's been two nights since I started the CPAP machine. And you know what? I don't think I was pushing the power cord in far enough, just like she said. :/ I don't know. Ever since I used to play with my sister's Transformers and would break them by accident, I guess, I'm always afraid of breaking something. But I want to be able to admit when I'm wrong. 
> 
> And I did eventually tell my sister about the Transformers.
> 
> I don't feel much better after the CPAP. Maybe later it will work. The first night it felt like someone was blowing up my nostrils. :/
> 
> Anyway, Mr. Dressup receives a mention here. I still wish he wouldn't have followed up every singing of "Boom Boom Ain't it Great to be Crazy" with a lesson on how "ain't" really wasn't a word. That was kind of annoying. But other than that there ain't much for me to complain about and I loved him.
> 
> But not as much as I love you.
> 
> By the way, you can tickle my trunk anytime. Even with the ramifications. ;D
> 
> Much love,  
> Erin  
> XO XO  
> :D <3


	37. On a Rooftop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Wick seeks help from the Bowery King to save me but finds his only aid in reliving the past in the armory room at the Continental.

"Because you need to listen to me first."

John tried to stand steady and as unfazed by the Bowery King as the first time he had sought audience with him following Santino's treacherous machinations. This time, however, it was proving extremely difficult. Looking back, John understood that he had nothing to lose then other than his life. Other than Hal, the only thing he had been living for was to remember Helen and to avoid the very real threat of hell. For while Viggo Tarasov had granted him freedom once for the completion of an impossible task, nothing was impossible for God as the street corner preachers liked to declare and thus could not be bribed. 

Yes, back then, standing on the same rooftop, he had nothing to fear but death and damnation.

That wasn't the case anymore.

Now he had Erin to think of and their child; achild whom would be the combination of them made incarnate, the result of a love he had thought after one devastating loss he would never be blessed with again. It was a child whom, though Erin and he knew neither the sex nor the name of, they both loved with the whole of their beings.

And whom deserved to live despite the sins of their father.

"Well, Wick, what do you have to say to me then?" the Bowery King demanded in his impatience. "What could you possibly say?"

John searched his mind, his main reason for visiting was first in his thoughts but knowing that his highness was not referring merely to this.

"I'm sorry," John apologized, it being the only two words he could think of immediately.

The King was less than impressed. He raised his eyebrows in unison, while his eyes underneath widened in shock. "You go back to sleeping with the enemy after our plans all combusted, going down in a blaze of shit smelling glory and all you can do is come here and say 'I'm sorry?'"

The assassin Alpha continued to stand straight. "I'm very sorry," John Wick amended.

The Pauper Royale remained nonplussed. Mumbling to himself loudly (an act which caused more of his fine feathered subjects to leave) the man walked over to the chair and sat down. While he seated himself, John Wick was afforded the time to study the man and realize how aged he had become after their failed coupe. The King's walk was much slower, his face more gray and lined. Once proud, the King now carried himself with defeat. The only joy he seemed to currently hold was his affection for the pigeons and his delight in the Baba Yaga's suffering.

"Look's like the enemy isn't the _only_ thing you've been sleeping with, though," the Bowery King remarked with a chuckle while looking his former accomplice over. "Got yourself a new mate, huh, John? And got her pregnant besides...my my. You've been busy since I last saw you. Shame, I'll never get to meet them. Not unless you find somebody to put all the pieces back together after the High Table gets through with them."

John blinked, an involuntary action, only to hear Erin's voice saying, " _Steady."_ The sound comforted him like a warm blanket on the cold Russian nights of his youth. "The Elder has them," the Alpha corrected. "Not the Table."

The Bowery King's brows raised again and he nodded. "All the way to the top. I'm impressed! You sure know how to piss off all the wrong people, John Wick. Better luck next time anyway."

"I'm going to save them," John Wick countered. "But I need your help."

Amusement turned to complete baffled and almost angry shock on the King's weathered face. "Are you out of your mind? We took on the Table, the lousy Table, and got our butts kicked. Handed to us in a doggy bag. My subjects are fewer in number now then ever before. You saw the slaughter first hand. New York has herself hundreds of less beggars. Yet you want us to go after an even bigger gun now and wipe us out altogether?"

"I don't want to; I need to," John corrected.

"No way," the Monarch said, shaking his head furiously. "Un un...no way am I going to help you again."

"Last time, I helped you," the reminder was given.

"After I saved you! I helped you; you helped me. And we lost. This...what you're planning now...you're out of your fucking mind. You found yourself another Omega once already; I order you to go out and do it again."

"NO!" John snarled. "THEY DIE, I DIE!"

The Bowery King studied his visitor, unmoved. "You're not inciting me to stop the Elder from doing whatever he damn well wants to then. I've been fantasizing about your death for over a year. And I sure as hell won't risk the lives of any more of my men on you, John Wick."

* * *

John was becoming upset again. I could feel it. So was our baby, whom was upset inside of me. I held on to my belly and tried to coo outwardly to the upset baby and inwardly to my grown Alpha.

_"I feel your arms around me, John. We are safe in your arms. You are strong and you will save us. I know that. But don't waste your time on something that will only frustrate you or deplete you. There will be some other way. You will find it. We both know that."_

There was silence and then strength flooding through me like the first rays of the sun in the apartment bedroom where John Wick and I had mainly spent the time of my heat.

* * *

John studied the Bowery King following the arrival of Erin's words and felt his fear and exasperation disappearing like the stars in a lightening dawn sky.

"You're right. I forgot. The last time we failed it was because of you and most of your men," John Wick hissed abd turned to leave, walking past Earl in his departure.

Hearing a gun clicking, the Alpha knew that the scarred and favorite servant of the King had aimed a revolver at his back at the criticism of his lord.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?" his majesty boomed, sending the rest of the pigeons flying off. "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SAY TO ME?"

John turned to look over his shoulder at the leader of an army of dead derelicts but not at the gun pointed at him. "If you had done what I had told you instead of thinking you knew best and if your men had had the sense to know when the orders given were suicidal, we might have won," the assassin commented, saying truths that had lain unspoken between them following a disaster which had caused many their lives. "If I have any chance of saving my Omega," Wick continued. "It's best to choose someone that knows what they are doing."

Turning back, Wick walked away, expecting to feel a bullet entering his back but only hearing the King shouting enraged behind him.

"WELL GOOD LUCK TO FINDING ANYONE WHO WILL HELP YOU! YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT THE ELDER, JOHN WICK! THE ELDER! NOBODY HAS TAKEN ON AN ELDER AND SURVIVED! YOU OF ALL PEOPLE SHOULD KNOW THAT, JOHN FUCKING WICK!"

* * *

 _"You can talk now. It's over,"_ John's voice came resonating through my soul again. _"And it went as well as my first."_

_"I'm sorry."_

_"Don't be,"_ my Alpha replied. _"If anything, all these rejections are showing me to stop blaming myself and my father. And reminding me where my true strength lies."_

_"And where is that, John Wick?"_

_"In myself...and in you."_

I held myself, imagining they were John's arms again and not my own.

_"Erin?"_

_"Yes?"_ I replied.

_"They're taking you to the Elder..."_

_"And?"_ I pried gently, sensing his distress.

A pause. _"The Elder is an Alpha, Erin."_

The news did not surprise me. Alphas held the most powerful of positions and for the man whom sat above the Table to be anything else would have been simply unthinkable to those whom sat at it and those below. Only an Alpha would have earned their fear.

I knew what John was truly warning me of as his Omega, however.

 _"He can bite you and make you his. If he wants to sever our bond he can,"_ my Alpha stated, the pain he was keeping from his voice obvious in his feelings.

 _"He never can,"_ I returned boldly.

 _"We won't be able to communicate,"_ my lover stated. _"The laws between Alphas and Omegas..."_

 _"You think I'm just talking about hearing your voice inside my head and vice versa, John?"_ I asked. _"What we have between us is a true soul bond. Wherever you are, I'll know what your feeling. Wherever I am, it will be the same with you. And we have our baby. It will be the same with them. That's more than words. We're forever bonded, my handsome lad."_

Immediately, I heard, _"I love you."_

 _"I love you too,"_ I stated. _"Now you get back to the tedious business of saving me."_

* * *

Hearing Erin's order, John smiled, pushing the pedal to the medal and heading to what was his last chance.

* * *

Winston, Charon and Hal met him in the lobby of the Continental. They had been waiting there the whole time, John Wick understood. Their eyes were guarded but it was obvious that everyone in the building already knew what had occurred so they could have spoken openly if they wished.

Some looked at him in pity, John could tell; while others looked at him in delighted contempt. He had tried to deceive the Table and had affronted the Elder. Had he really expected to win, their gazes asked. Oddly enough, he had earned the same stares following Helen's death. Only then everybody had thought it was God he had offended and Whom had finally managed to catch up to His escaped and long time target.

Now John Wick comforted himself with one fact: While God, far more merciful than what was known, could not be reached or found in an often godless world, the Elder could always be located if one put their mind to it.

All four minds, one pitbull included.

Going to the armory room, once more, the three men and their canine companion were still being watched with curiosity. Perhaps even some of the watchers were aware what was about to be planned but. All believed, however, one thing: whatever was to be plotted, in a room free from the High Table's watch, it hardly made a difference. Any act of treason against the Elder was destined to punish itself in the end. While many knew they could inform Administration none could actually be bothered to. No reward had been offered. Without incentive it was much more enjoyable to sit back and watch the farce play out. Then it could be assumed that in a day or two the news would reach them about how John Wick and the Continental's manager and concierge had perished trying to save the Baba Yaga's abducted and pregant mate. The glorious details of his loss could come as a delightful surprise to his peers, ones whom were often times bored in between missions and sexual liaisons. It would be more interesting and gratifying not to intefere.

So, the den of thieves, assassins and killers watched the men and animal go about their business while they did the same with their own.

* * *

Charon and Winston listened patiently to the situation John Wick was bringing them up to date on. Winston in particular looked as calm as possible, Hal lying beside him on the sofa. The scar from Leuce's attack on the British ex-patriot's neck resembling the one on the Bowery King's whose denial to be of service brought the assassin to the end of his briefing.

"So there will be nobody to help us?" Charon stated, his voice betraying that he had already expected as much.

"No," John Wick stated. "And I don't presume there to be a 'us.' I can't ask you to help me."

"Asking is not a requirement, sir," Charon said. "You cannot stop me, I'm afraid."

John Wick nodded, not willing to smile, knowing that the man was very well agreeing to march to his death, just as he had when joining him in standing up to the Table on the Continental's then freshly deconsecrated grounds one night long ago.

John turned to the reinstated manager of the same hotel and met the unreadable stare of the Englishman. "Winston."

Rising from off of the couch, the older man walked with purpose to the guns which were lining the vaulted room's walls. Hal watched him in curiosity, subsequently left alone. As the Continental's manager reached the weapons, the pitbull hopped off from the couch and went to sit by the feet of his master.

Gracefully, smoothly, the Englishman took a large gun from off its place on the wall. With perfect precision, as if not a single second, let alone an accumulation of years, separated him from his days as an assassin, Winston fired the gun several times into the back of the place where he had formerly been sitting, creating a perfect bullet formed image of a cowslip.

"Jonathan, let's go rescue your Omega," Winston said, his blue eyes never once obscured by so much as a quickly falling and rising lid of skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Keanu;
> 
> We're coming up to December! Yay! Do you decorate your house? Someone who stumbled upon you once said you had decorations up and a Christmas message spray painted on your house. I wish I could help you decorate. Sigh.
> 
>   
> Much love,  
> Erin  
> XO XO  
> :D <3


	38. Above the Sand and Waves and On Solid Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Wick travels to Morocco while I, at last, arrive in the Sahara.

When they reached New Jersey, the three and a half travellers from the New York Continental were well prepared, having packed enough weapons to declare a small war. It was not all they would need, but it was all that they could carry in the vast desert; under the heat from the sun and the coldness of the moon it would have to be enough. Now all that was needed to do, John Wick understood, was to find a way to Casablanca. The normal routes and air services were off limits. The Elder would have commanded the Table to impede his approaching enemy from getting to his abducted mate and that would have meant barring him from setting a single foot onto any form of aircraft or boat from California to Maine.

That was not going to stop him, the assassin vowed, looking out the window at the passing scenery from Winston's limousine. If he had to swim the whole ocean in order to get to Erin he was prepared to do it; God could damn anything, be it shark or cramp, that tried to stop him.

The Omega had fallen asleep and he had let her, knowing both she and the baby needed the rest and strength. Oddly, the sound of Erin's breathing still filled his mind, as comforting as the sound of the heartbeat she had told him once that their child could hear even during the early stages of their life.

Pulling into the parking lot of their destination, the very person they had come to meet stepped out to greet them. It was as if he had been waiting by the doors for someone to show up sooner or later, not wanting to risk not being there.

"John, I heard," Aurelio stated. "Bad business, I'm sorry, man. How far along is she again?"

"Over eight weeks," the assassin answered as Winston and Charon exited the long, black vehicle behind him. "She's not due for two weeks. But with all this..."

Aurelio nodded in sad comprehension. "What do you need?" the mechanic asked, barely glancing at the hotel manager and concierge whom had come to stand by either of John Wick's sides.

"A plane," John answered. "Small but not inconspicuous. I need one that won't gain much attention either way. I can't risk being detected. Preferably one that's scheduled to head in that direction, if you have one."

"Done," Aurelio stated with a nod. "I was busy studying the transport listings the moment after I had heard. Got just the one planned. And I'll handle flying her myself to avoid any undue interest."

"Wait," Winston stated, stopping the mechanic and finally earning his attention. "While it is my desire to help Jonathan and his mate at the expense of my own life, I feel I must warn you, Aurelio, that this will surely cost you your own if we fail. The Elder has many eyes and they report back to him constantly in the hope of favor and repayment."

The chop shop owner's dark eyes met the icy blue ones of the older man. "You think you need to tell me that? I might never have been as refined as you, old timer, but I know it. I also know that I'd be a fucking coward if I let them kill an innocent woman and her baby. You think I can live with that? You think I'd want to?"

"No," Winston remarked in stalwart approval. "I don't believe that you do."

"Damn straight," Aurelio stated. "I hate what's happened to us. We used to have honor. We lived by codes not by simple greed and violence," the man shook his head in longingful regret. "Unh unh...Not anymore. If this is the future of the organization, hurting innocents for revenge, I'd rather die in the present than live in the future. And if there is anyone I'd bet my life on it's the Baba Yaga. But how about you, John? What do you think your chances are?"

John Wick considered the question for a second, the possibility of not saving his Omega too horrifying to contemplate for longer. There was one thing for certain inside of his mind. The Elder was dead one way or another; nobody whom was brave enough to fight with him need worry about consequences this time.

"Better than the Elder's," John Wick replied in confidence.

* * *

I had fallen asleep sometime after John had told me that Winston, Charon, Hal and he were heading off to New Jersey to see if they could find a way out of the city. Exhaustion had overridden my fear, maybe even aiding it in some strange way. One minute, I had been awake and talking to my Alpha, whom was close to half a world from us now, and the next I was in a darkness deeper than what the crate even offered me, for my whole consciousness was suddenly taken from me.

I found it returning as my body was suddenly moving back and forth inside of my prison, and I held my arms out to either side of my body, trying to protect myself from too much rocking, which I feared could harm the baby.

The large crate I was in began to shake with even greater force and terror seized me perhaps more than at any other time since I had awakened to the darkness. The motion reminded me that I was on an airplane for the first time in my life, something that I had never been on before and that sometimes planes crashed, a fact which had caused my avoidance of them..

 _"What is it?"_ John asked, cutting through the last remnants of my after sleeping grogginess after sensing my waking and subsequent fear.

 _"Well, I think were either landing or the plane is about to crash,"_ I replied. _"I've never been on one before so I can't tell."_

 _"Never?"_ my Alpha asked, his voice calm and steadying.

 _"I took the Greyhound to New York,"_ I confessed. _"When I finally found the strength to take a plane, I was kind of hoping you'd be sitting beside me, John."_

_"I am. My arms are wrapped around you right now."_

_"Thank you,"_ I replied but didn't say while the plane was lurching forward again that I wished he was physically there too so I could hold on to him for dear life. _"How did your trip to Jersey go? I fell asleep,"_ I confessed in embarrassment, afraid, as an assassin, he'd see this as being highly irresponsible.

 _"I know,"_ he replied, sounding amused. _"I let you."_

 _"Oh, you did, did you?"_ I asked.

_"Yeah. Sleep's good. While your being transported was the perfect time to get some. You'll need to be awake and alert for whatever is coming."_

I was simultaneously comforted and terrified. This too, John seemed to sense. _"Sorry,"_ he immediately apologized.

 _"No, it's fine,"_ I said, once more holding onto my tummy. _"I need to remember that. But, how did things go? You never answered."_

 _"As well as hoped,"_ John Wick answered. _"We're all on a plane now heading to Morroco. When I save you, remind me to introduce you to a man named Aurelio."_

 _"Interesting name,"_ I commented. The plane now behaving itself more. _"I'd be happy to meet him. Maybe he can meet the baby then too."_

_"Are you?"_

_"No,"_ I said, shaking my head. _"Not yet. But by then..."_

 _"Hopefully, I'll get to you before that happens,"_ John Wick stated. But I knew, no, I _sensed_ that my labour was one thing that John would not be able to reach me before it started. It was a feeling so strong, I was sure that it was a certainty and not a mere guess. Still, I did not tell my mate this but kept the thought to myself, incase it worried him.

The sound of movement came from outside of my crate, something opening and I realized that we had landed, after all. With light coming in now, I could clearly see the planks of the crate and the action of people outside of it. What I assumed were strangers were now coming to take me to the Elder.

 _"What's wrong?"_ John asked in concern.

 _"I'm being moved,"_ I stated, feeling the men each grab a corner of the crate and then carry me outside of the plane, the light growing in intensity with each step that they made.

_"Where are you now?"_

Light flooded in through the slats between the boards of the crate now, almost blinding me with brightness instead of the less loud black. _"Give me a second or two,"_ I told my mate. _"I can't see."_

The blindness was a painful sort, making my eyes feel as if they were about to explode with what was obviously the full light which could usually only be offered by the sun. I could hear the men talking to each other, surrounding mr. I also recognized the sounds of camels from the episodes of National Georgraphic I had watched before all the death had disturbed me. Placing my squinting eyes to the slat behind me, my eyes slowly focused on the silver base of a small plane.

Gradually, I was permitted to see more while my eyes became used to the light and as the men moved the crate forward more and round about, tying it with rope from the sound of it.

 _"The men are securing the crate, I think"_ I informed my Alpha. _I'm...I'm..."_ I inhaled quickly, having expected to see an airport of some kind surrounding me. _"John, I'm in the desert!"_ I exclaimed. _"They landed the plane in the sand!"_

 _"Crashed more like it. They aren't willing to risk you being taken to the airport,"_ John Wick replied and I could feel his mind busy at work, waging the situation, even if I couldn't read his thoughts without his deciding to send them to me. _"I don't have many allies but the Elder does have plenty of more enemies."_

_"That doesn't surprise me."_

_"No, it shouldn't,"_ John replied. _"But none he should be more afraid of."_

My hand rested against one of the wooden boards but I jolted back as I felt my cage suddenly being dragged across the sandy desert floor. The camels were making noises I took for complaints and I watched as sand collected at the bottom of the crate only to spill out from the slats on the opposite side.

The sun was blaring and my maternity outfit a little too warm; it had been nearing Autumn's end in New York when I had entered the final month of my pregnancy. I found myself rolling up my sleeves to try to become a little cooler and then fell against the back of the crate as the camels pulled me over a hill in the sand. "Ooofff!" I sounded, making the strangers begin to talk amongst tgemselves and then laugh in imitation of the almost comical sound.

I looked out at the vast landscape ahead of me and the collecting sand inside of the crate and I suddenly felt like an ant lost in the sandboxes I had played in when I had been a child. Suddenly, also, came the remembrance of having kicked the dirt over the ant hills I had sometimes encountered and how I had enjoyed watching the tiny insects frantically digging the hole again, either to escape or to return. Was this my punishment years later, I wondered in regret: To be nothing more than something small and insignificant at the willpower of those whom held more power in the desert.

 _"All I see is sand,"_ I informed my lover again, collecting a handful that had entered my prison and letting it fall out of my hand like an hour glass whose time was running out. _"And I feel like I'm slipping through it,"_ I added.

* * *

As his lover confessed the sight of the desert which surrounded her for a second time and made her painful observation, John Wick gazed out the window to his side and saw an opposing sight. Water surrounded the small plane transporting stolen automobile parts to Casablanca. He sat alone, save for Hal resting by his feet, on one of the crates carrying the contraband cargo while Winston and Charon conversed at the other end of the plane.

The two men had sensed his need for solitude and had distanced themselves from him, as many had in his life. It was not due to coldness or animosity but from their understanding that the Baba Yaga could never completely live with them without remaining separate in some way. He was a legend and legends would always be afforded space by the legion that weren't included among them.

Those whom needed heroes also needed to keep themselves from seeing the pain and suffering of gods, lest they became somehow human in their eyes and lost their glow.

So the Continental's manager and it's concierge left him to suffer on his own, feeling that it was good enough that they had joined him this far.

 _"You're not being fair,"_ he heard Helen Wick and not Erin say inside of his mind as he watched the water in restless waves beneath the plane. _"They came with you because they wanted to. They love you, John. Enough to know that, right now, you need to be with your Omega...the one whom is still living that is."_

 _"For how long?"_ John Wick thought without wanting to but kept it to himself, sending it to neither Erin or Helen.

His hand went to the glass and touched it, feeling heat. _"All I see is water,"_ he said in return to his pregant lover. _"And even though I'm in this plane...I might as well be drowning in it without you."_

A few seconds of silence, Erin's compassion for him flooded him, more water to be swept under, but a welcomed kind. Then her voice returned in his head. _"Well if I have only sand and you have nothing but water, we're doing all right."_

 _"How's that?"_ John inquired.

_"We each have what the other needs...just like when we first met in that little cafe."_

Their meeting returned to him fully then, the memory of his lost Omega shielding him with her umbrella from a weeping sky. It was followed by quick flashes of everything that had happened to them afterwards: everything good, everything bad, everything perfectly wonderful, everything of the spirit and all of the flesh which had followed; all under the simple shelter of that world adorned umbrella.

 _"You're my earth, John Wick, and I'm your water,"_ Erin stated. _"I am inside of you. And you are inside of me. I'll help you float and not drown and you'll make sure that I don't slip through the sand. Together we make somewhere solid where we can stand._

_"Together."_

John looked down at the water, grateful his companions had given him his distance, after all, so that he would not feel too conscious of the own drops of water falling from his eyes and his desperate longing to be on the same ground, once again, as his beloved mate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Keanu;
> 
> I was thinking about Coca Cola today and how the cans should be coming out soon with Santa on them. I remember being so sad about those seasonal cans the year after my mom died. She'd always loved them. She loved Coca Cola and would have loved you because, not only did you advertise it, you drink it too. 
> 
> And she loved those cans. 
> 
> So, the year they came out after she had passed on, I felt devastated. Now I look at them with fondness and delight and it's like she's looking at them with me. The first steps after a loss are the hardest, I think. But then, sometimes, if you remember what you loved about the person and what made them happy you can hold to that for strength and hope.
> 
> So, I hope those Santa Coca Cola cans come out soon. I'll think of her and then of you too.
> 
> Much love,  
> Erin  
> XO XO  
> :D <3


	39. At an Oasis, At a Hotel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I arrive at the resting caravan of the Elder while John Wick seeks the help of someone still not pleased to see him.

I had heard of people becoming sea sick before but by the time I was brought to the caravan I was desert sick and grateful to see things which weren't yellow and formed by countless grains of sand; many of which had become stuck to the lower half of my maternity clothes. The sun had created sweat and this only helped any sand, which blew up towards my face through the slats, stick there also.

I would be a far from pretty sight when I was finally introduced to the Elder, I had thought often in bemusement.

Throughout my long journey across the scorching desert, I found myself singing inside of my head as I stroked my stomach. The caresses were for the baby but the song was for John Wick. We couldn't talk non stop to each other (that was in neither of our personalities,) but I could sense my Alpha's distress almost without ceasing and knew that he needed to hear me. So, I sang to him. Sometimes it was out loud, earning remarks from the men transporting me, but mostly it was just inside of my head.

I think I sang every single song I knew all the words to, and some of these I ended up singing over again.

As the crate was pulled over a large dune, I was singing Leonard Cohen's "Famous Blue Raincoat," and had just arrived at Jane's waking, when I heard several noises added to the sounds of the men travelling with me, as well as the camels.

I was in the process of singing, _"Well, I see..."_ when I _saw_ quite a lot through the long slits of my prison box and I stopped the song of betrayal, forgiveness and love. I pressed my head closer to the slat and saw more clearly what was lying on the other side of the boards.

There were large tents in the valley after the dune, a valley which was more of an oasis, complete with a small body of water and shade giving trees. Men and women were going about different tasks related to these things (tents, water and trees) and also the various boxes I saw littered around the caravan's resting ground while camels and horses stood by the water drinking and feeding.

 _"What do you see?"_ I heard John ask, obviously aware that something had changed.

 _"People"_ I answered. _"Animals...An oasis and a camp made there. There are tents and boxes. The Elder, he lives in the desert, right?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"I think I'm finally here,"_ I told the Alpha that which he already knew.

Our feeling of terror was mutual. If I had finally arrived that meant that I was soon to be introduced to the man whom sat above the Table. It also meant that my fate would be decided or delivered once I did meet him.

 _"We just reached Casablanca,"_ my Alpha hissed in frustration, knowing that (while he was closer to me than before) he was still too far away to save either me or our child. _"Damnit!"_ he cursed.

One of the Elder's men shouted something loudly and the camel pulling me stopped abruptly, making me fall forward. I carefully, shifted my body so that I landed on my side, the impact hurting more of my left shoulder than anything else.

 _"ERIN?"_ John shouted.

 _"It's okay,"_ I reassured him, sitting up and spitting out the sand which had gone into my mouth, being three inches tall now in the crate. I brushed it off of my cheek and chin and then out of my tresses too. _"We just stopped."_

 _"Do what they ask,"_ John Wick commanded me, his fear and the strength belying it evident in the feeling sent, if not in the words themselves. _"The Elder is a man whom lives by rules and honor. If you abide by his rules he will let...he will let you live; for as long as it suits him, at least."_

His warning was a double edged sword meant to help me survive but which wounded him in the process. Though, I resolved to do what he asked, the moment that the crate was opened, some hinge undone on its top, causing the walls to collapse around me, my natural inclinations as an Omega mother took over.

A group of the Elder's men circled round about their master's prisoner and in the overwhelming need to protect John and my own's unborn child, I began to hiss at them and spit.

 _"What are you doing?"_ my assassin mate asked in shock over my disobedience.

 _"I don't know,"_ I replied, growling and taking a swipe at one of the men as he neared, knocking him off from his feet.

 _"Erin, calm down,"_ John Wick warned.

 _"I CAN'T!"_ I shot back, biting another approaching servant of the Elder on his leg. Blood began to leak through the white fabric of his clothing, but he did not harm me and I knew then that they all were under their own orders.

 _"STOP IT NOW!"_ my Alpha commanded, trying to intimidate me into stopping my motherly aggression.

And it worked, the obeying of my Alpha taking precedence. By then it was too late, though. Someone grabbed me from behind and for a second time in less than a day, I knew only darkness.

* * *

John Wick hit the side of the plane painfully hard, sensing Erin being chloroformed by one of the Elder's men. Her instincts had taken over, something they had both not considered in regards to her usually shy and gentle personality. She was a mother now and nature was taking over. But if she could keep them in check, she would better serve herself and the child, John understood.

Remembering in shame his last words to her, he was grateful to have experienced her brain's recognition of the chemical scent for then he knew that she was merely unconscious and that he had the chance to talk to her with love once again.

Not that there was much risk that his mate would be killed by one of the Elder's servants. John understood it was more likely that the man in the most revered and coveted position in the world would desire to handle the meeting out of the punishment against John Wick personally.

"Is she okay?" Winston asked, his eyes wide with worry as he came to stand by his side, readying themselves to unboard.

"She's at the Elder's," John Wick answered. "She tried to fight them."

The Englishman looked both terrified and wryly amused. "That is a sight I would have paid to have seen...under different circumstances, of course."

"She's out now," the hitman stated.

And not wanting to waste any more time, he walked past Aurelio, whom was walking up the lowered ramp to meet them.

* * *

The Continental in Casablanca was very much the same as the last time he had visited it, John absently intook in a single glance. The one major difference being that it was now day and not night. The surroundings hardly interested him, however, so intent was he on meeting with the woman he had come to see that he could have been at Shangri-La and not given a damn.

Aurelio, Charon and Hal were far more fascinated by the exotic scenery, so different from New York. Charon cracked an uncharcteristic smile and Aurelio whistled as he observed the tables where people sat drinking and talking business while a dancer did several rotations of her exposed belly.

Winston, on the other hand was looking at everything, particularly the belly dancer, with far less amusement.

"I hate visiting other Continentals," the Englishman confessed. "I either find myself incredibly jealous or finding fault with everything."

"If you find fault with this hotel, Winston, I suggest you take it up with the me," the three men heard a woman say and turned to see the speaker walking towards them, two Belgian Malinoises flanking her legs. "But if you do, I'll warn you now that she'll likely throw your complaints out due to suspected bias."

John Wick watched as Winston's face broke into a large warm smile. "Sofia," the manager of the New York Continental said in greeting of the manager of the Casablanca one.

When Sofia reached him, he placed his hands on her waist and they shared a friendly and warm kiss in greeting.

"Charon," she said, turning to the concierge. "I don't see nearly enough of you. Care to fix that? I pay much better."

Seeing his employer throwing him a "best be careful" glance, Charon nodded. "I'm afraid that my roots go deep at the New York Continental," he politely declined. "And I am more than pleased with the management there."

The woman smiled and turned her gaze to Aurelio. "Aurelio...when was the last time?"

The mechanic smiled. "When you brought your Lambo in, remember? Right before you were relocated. You said you didn't think it would fit in here."

"Right," Sofia said with a nod. "And it wouldn't. Not with this terrain, anyway."

Finally she turned in g6er final guest's direction, her eyes conveniently dropping to Hal directly afterwards.

"That thing go through quarantine?" she demanded sternly, one malinois growling at the other canine, it took as a stranger, in suspicion.

"No," John Wick replied. "It was a rush job us coming here."

Sofia kept his gaze coldly before snapping, "If he gives something to a guest, I'll have to put him down."

"He won't," John replied, petting the pit bull, whom was looking up and whimpering in concern.

"Do you know why..." the Alpha started to ask but Sofia put her hand up and stopped him.

"I'll see you in my office, John. You others wait here and enjoy the scenery."

Winston was rolling his eyes as the other Continental's manager led John Wick to the same office where he had once called in Sofia Al-Azwar's marker.

It was changed sublty, the woman not enjoying stagnation when it concerned her abode's decorations. Still, it possessed the exotic flare he had previously witnessed, just down in a fresher manner.

Sofia spun around to face him the moment the door was closed. "I warned you before, John, that we were less than even. How dare you come here now even contemplating asking me what I think you're going to ask me."

"You know about Erin?" John Wick asked.

The attractive woman nodded. "Of course, I damn well know. The news went global the minute that they caught her. You should have known! To have selfishly taken a mate and then to have gotten her pregnant! What were you thinking? People like us aren't supposed to fall in love. Didn't we both learn that before?"

The Alpha blinked, guilt returning and Erin agonizingly silent. He pictured his mate safe in his arms then and took a deep breath, focusing on how much he loved her instead of the danger he had placed her in and the horrible possible validity of Sofia's words. "The pregnancy wasn't planned," he defended it was an accident."

"Everything is an accident when it comes to what you shoulda seen coming, John," Sofia said with a humorless laugh. "Coming back here was an accident then too."

"I don't need anything other than to be escorted to where you dropped me the last time," he requested. "You won't be harmed. It will be just like the last time."

Her eyes widened in anger. "Oh, I wasn't harmed now, was I?" she asked before turning her back to him. Lifting her blouse, John viewed her formerly perfect skin there and the long scar now running from one side to the other. It had healed ages ago, obviously, but, like the Bowery King's own wounds, it betrayed all too clearly the pain it must have left the woman to endure during its infliction and her slow recovery.

"Because I helped you behind the Tables _back_ ," Sofia remarked and then pulled her blouse down, turning around. "That was the Adjudicator's verdict. If I hadn't had the marker I'd have been condemned. All because of you, John Wick...All because of _you_."

Though John Wick felt extremely sorry for the woman, he was aware of one thing she was leaving out of her story. "And sicing your dog on Berrada's crotch had nothing to do with it," he stated.

"Get out!" Sofia spat and opened the door.

"Your daughter...do you still love her?" he asked.

She stared at him for a solid ten seconds before she slammed the door shut. "What kind of question is that?"

"Do you want a world where you can be with her again?" John Wick inquired further. "Without fear?"

"More than anything," the former assassin answered, a tear fat and full of loss and hope running down her soft brown cheek, as she stepped forward.

"If I succeed you'll get it, I promise," Wick elaborated. "I'm taking down the Elder this time. Things will change. Your only child...and my only child...both free."

Sofia was about to speak when they heard the sound of that which was usually forbidden inside of any Continental suddenly loudly breaking the peace: Gunfire.

"JONATHAN!" John Wick and Sofia heard Winston shouting and rushed in unison to the door.

* * *

At first, I thought that I was back in my bed at the apartment. Instead of the hard wooden surface of the crate, I was on something soft and was comfortable, something seemingly impossible during my third trimester.. In the fog, I thought that it had all been a horrible and vivid nightmare and that luckily when I opened my eyes, I would see familiar sights, most hopefully John lying by my side. As my lids fluttered open, and then my eyes slowly focused, I was greeted by an image about as foreign as possible from the New York I knew.

Only not as unfamiliar as I at first believed.

The thick plush rug I was lying on was not the one from the dream I had once had, lying in my tub and nearing my heat; it was not of a reflected night sky but it was of the same material and I knew it from that dream. The dress I was wearing was straight from the dream as well. The most beautiful royal blue with several embroidered embellishments and jewels placed around its body. My belly full with my pregnancy was seen and I touched it in fright realizing I had been stripped, washed and changed during my unconsciousness. Feeling violated, my first impulse was still with my child and I stroked my tummy, hoping to soothe them somehow.

I was just about to call out to my Alpha when someone interrupted me.

"Miss Smyth," a man's voice, accented, cultured and seemingly caring stole my attention because, past all its refinement, it terrified me. I looked up to see a man in a white desert outfit, a turban on his head, studying me calmly. He was handsome and passive but this too I could see past to know that he wished neither my baby nor I any good.

"For so long I have wished to meet the Omega of John Wick," the man said with a look of respect offered. "I have sent word to all the networks in the world, to everyone whom sits at it and all below as well. And yet not one of them could find you...not until today, that is. It is truly an honor to finally make your acquaintance and that of the life inside of you: the one and only child of the Baba Yaga."

I held my stomach again and prayed for another kick to let me know that the child was still alive.

But it remained silent and unmoving.

"Let me introduce myself...I am the Elder," he continued, ignoring my reaction as he would a cough. "I wish to assure you...I do not hold John Wick's actions against you...but it makes little difference. Often it serves us best to hurt those things a person loves most to truly receive our revenge. And if it is any comfort, John Wick surely must hold you and your baby as the most beloved and precious things to him. I have word already that he has reached Casablanca...It is most unfortunate, however, that I have also been informed that there are those at the Continental whom will be most pleased to see him. And also by the fact that the Casablanca Continental has just been declared deconsecrated..."

Understanding his words fully and my prayer for a sign that our child was alive still left unanswered, I cried out my lover's name finally and in purest anguish. _"JOHN!"_

I screamed but received only silence.

"Is there no answer?" the Elder said in truest pity, wisely knowing what I was trying to do. "I had hoped your lover would prevail. I had something special planned for us four: he, you, your child and myself. But if he is gone..."

The man stood and walked towards me, another familiar object from my dream clenched tightly in his grip.

He gazed down at me in regret, preparing to bring the sharpened sword down on my swollen belly...

* * *

The outside lobby of the Continental had been turned into a complete bloodbath under the scorching sun. The group of assassins, which had obviously been lying in wait for him inside of the building, had instantly turned on his four companions, successfully drawing them out and now Sofia and him as well. Bullets were making their journey through the air from both sides and the Malinoises were snarling, biting and doing an impressive job of adding more blood to that which had already been spilt. Hal helped as well when he could but was not exactly trained or used to the violence.

John Wick was standing and aiming his gun at the back of the head of one of the enemy when he heard Erin's voice as clear as a bell, flooding his mind in urgent desperation.

_"JOHN!"_

He could hear and feel the fear in her soul, not for herself but for him, and was about to reply when something hit him from behind and he fell helplessly, stunned and silent to the Continental floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Keanu;
> 
> I realize that if you ever read these someday, the notes will all be scattered here and there over different stories. For instance, I'm about to mention my new coat, the one I referenced in a note to another story.
> 
> This week was a bad week for mitts/gloves in my household. My sister's got run over. And, well, I was so happy because I found my favorite gloves from last year. But, as I was putting on the hand sanitizer, Giant Tiger requests you to do before shopping, I took them off and stuck them in my pocket.
> 
> Only it wasn't my pocket.
> 
> Since the jacket's new and all I didn't realize it was the belt. It went apparently straight on to the floor. I lost it! And when I went back it was gone. And I'm afraid with all of these COVID19 regulations it will most probably be burnt. :/ 
> 
> Oh, well. Sigh.
> 
> Much love,  
> Erin  
> XO XO  
> :D <3


	40. After a Caravan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Wick escapes from the siege at the Moroccan Continental, while the Elder tells me his frightening plans for my child and myself.

John Wick hit the floor, all thoughts knocked from his mind. He saw a flash of abyss but struggled free from it and back to conscious thought, knowing that his Omega needed him. When they returned, his first overwhelming one was that he was about to die without seeing either her again or their child for the first time when a familiar voice met his ear and informed him that he had been taken down not by an enemy but a friend.

"Stay down, Mr. Wick!" Yassin, one of Sofia's employees at the Continental warned.

John kept his head lowered as something went sailing over it and hit the wall behind, sending large chunks of it crumbling down on him and his savior. The structure falling on him like rain, John instantly thought of his mate and cried out, " _ERIN!_ "

* * *

I managed by some grace of God to avoid the blade of the sword as the Elder brought it down on me once, managing only yo pierce through the fabric of my long dress. As he immediately went to try again (an attempt I knew I could not escape this time, now lying on my back,) I heard my mate's voice filling my mind and I cried out to him both inwardly and audibly, _"JOHN!"_

Hearing that one name, the tip of the blade touched my forehead but did not enter the skin it was now pricking like a needle.

"I hear him!" I told the Elder. "John Wick is alive! My John is alive!"

In thankfulness, I held my tummy again and sighed, knowing that my Alpha was still breathing and that my child now had its chance to take its first breath as well.

The Elder quickly sheathed his sword. He leaned in closer to me, smelling the sweat gland on my neck and for a moment I experienced terror that he was about to finally bond me to him and concurrently sever the mental tie to my Alpha. Luckily, though, he straightened himself once more and studied me carefully. Eventually, he slowly and elegantly, walked back to his former position, resuming it as if he had never left.

"But for how long?" he asked sitting across from me in repose.

* * *

" _Erin_ ," John asked, rising to his feet and shooting the man with the large projectile rifle across from Yassin and himself. _"Are you okay?"_

 _"Yes. Are you?"_ she asked immediately afterwards, her worry for him reaching his soul as strongly as a siren.

 _"Yeah. We just ran into a little trouble at the Moroccan Continental,"_ he informed.

 _"I know,"_ she replied. _"The Elder just told me."_

John Wick managed to take down another assassin as he saw Charon saving Winston from the belly dancer, whom was in the process of trying to strangle the short man with a tassle taken from her outfit. Apparently she had not appreciated the Englishman's disdain, John thought ruefully. _"They brought you to the Elder already?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Has he told you what he's planning?"_

_"No. But John?"_

_"Yeah?"_

_"Try to stay alive, okay?"_

John Wick grabbed the man in front of him, took the two knives effortlessly from his hands and stabbed him in both brachial arteries simultaneously. _"I'll try,"_ John Wick replied.

* * *

"And how is your Alpha faring now, Erin?" the Elder asked, leaning forward in interest. "If I might call you, Erin."

Sitting up once again, I nodded, remembering my mate's command to try my best to appease the man whom sat above the Table. "He's winning," I said with no shortage of pride.

"And you believe he will come and save you?"

I nodded again.

The Elder stared at me, unblinking. His eyes never leaving mine, he took a chain from around his neck and held it up. "Do you know what this is?" he asked.

I stared at the band of gold meant to represent a lifetime of love and devotion hanging from its end.

"It's John Wick's wedding ring to Helen," I replied after a swallow, my eyes filling with tears.

"Till death do they part... And Helen Wick was the first to depart," he mused, studying the golden circle before letting it fall against his white thwab. "And you will be no different, I'm afraid. Men like John Wick are not meant to love."

I blinked, remembering Ivy's often similiar hinted at shared opinion. "Maybe they are the only men whom truly love with all they are," I argued.

The Elder tilted his head. "You might be correct. But still, all they can ever do in the end is kill the people that they love."

"John won't be the one who kills me," I stated boldly. "That will be you."

He nodded in respect, not having expected my strength to contradict him. "You are right, Erin. _I_ will be the one to kill you and your child. After you have given birth, you shall take your final breath. But not before your child takes both its first and last. John Wick shall experience your deaths, the link still between you and he, and I will finally be granted my revenge. Once again I regret the need to do this...but an example must be set for those whom defy me."

* * *

John, Charon, Winston, Sofia, Aurelio, Yassin and the dogs were bursting out of the Morrocan Continental as the building began to explode behind them. The assassins had apparently rigged the place with explosives in the grand scheme that if they could not capture or kill the Baba Yaga. The Land Rover was packed to the brink, John holding on to the back, as they headed for the Sahara, but nobody complained as they watched the former place of Sofia's management be blown to the sky.

As it was further becoming a large fire in the city, John felt another wave of helplessness seize him and he called out to his mate again.

_"He's planning on killing us, John: the baby and me after I go into labour...he wants you to feel it...our deaths. It's why he won't override our bond."_

An assassin trying to apprehend them on the back of his motorcycle, John Wick offered the cyclist a look of rage, imagining the Elder's face under the helmet, before shooting both his hands and then his heart, sending the bike spinning and the already dead rider flying off. _"See how good your helmet was that time,"_ he thought.

 _"Did you just shoot some guy off of his motorcycle?"_ he heard Erin ask and knew in his pain he had sent a thought unintentionally. Still knowing that his Omega was still there to hear him, and to be heard in return, offered him some strength.

_"Yes, but don't worry he had a helmet on."_

_"I'm sure that helped when he was already dead,"_ she said in jest, her fear still present but somehow lessened in their talking with each other.

Sensing her own peace at his being there, John Wick suddenly knew the importance of not overlooking your blessings in the face of the approach of trouble, but to find your strength in them to overcome it.

 _"I'll get to you before that,"_ John Wick vowed. _"I promise, Erin, I'll find you before either you or the baby are hurt."_

 _"Oh, John,"_ Erin said.

They drove for a while at a breakneck speed until Sofia called for his attention too. "Unh John," I think we got trouble."

"Oh dear lord, what is it now?" Winston asked, unused to the excitement after years of a managerial position and an act of war he had managed to pretty well avoid.

"I'm pretty sure that this thing has been rigged," the woman answered.

"What?" Winston spat, leaning forward closer to the dashboard.

"More bombs," she said, driving into the desert and screeching the vehicle to a stop. "Just be grateful it must be time set or we'd be up in the clouds the moment the Continental blew."

"Great," the Englishman groaned.

"OUT NOW!" the woman shouted and the other passengers, canines included, ran as far as they could from the vehicle, spread out on all sides from the machine as it suddenly exploded, bits of it flying across the sands before it became a smaller replica of the Moroccan Continental's blaze.

* * *

One of the Elder's men burst into the tent. He whispered into his master's ear before standing perfectly still by his side. The Elder turned quickly to look at me. "John Wick has survived as you said he would."

I smiled in relief and joy, an act that grew brighter as I felt the baby move inside.

Orders were commanded in words not understood, and I watched as the servant fled and immediately commotion and ruckus were heard from outside.

The Elder rose to his feet again. "We move now. We cannot risk having John Wick find us before your time has come."

"Are you going to knock me out again?" I asked while he neared, afraid he would think I would relay too much information to my searching, lost Alpha.

"No," he replied calmly. "This is but one oasis; there are many. And to you, all desert sands will look the same. If John Wick finds us before the birth of your child then maybe my own time has finally come to its end and God Himself offers your mate the chance to save you."

I gazed up at him as he looked down at me in unwavering confidence. "But Wick will find that I do not intend to make him the same offer."

* * *

Charon and Winston were lying in the sand as Hal left his master's side to lick the New York Continental manager's face. "Well, thank you for that, friend, but I'd appreciate it a hell of a lot more if I hadn't seen you licking yourself on the plane all the way over."

John Wick suddenly walked past them, heading further into the desert.

"John Wick, where the hell do you think you're going?" Sofia demanded. "We've got no water, no food and most of the guns were at the Continental, which is no longer there."

The assassin turned around to look at the faces of his friends strewn across the desert sands, littered amongst them were pieces of the demolished vehicle. "I'm not asking you to follow me. But I have to go forward. They've brought Erin before the Elder."

Charon shook his head. "She will be dead before we even have the chance to cross a third of the distance then."

"He's waiting for her labour," John stated, hating that even this time was passing while he replied. Once more he started to walk forward, intending not to repeat the mistake.

"YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE A FUCKING COMPASS, JOHN!" Aurelio shouted at him.

"I DON'T NEED ONE," John called back, the sun already beating down on him. "I already have her," he said softly. "That's all I need."

The words reached his comrades, gently spoken as they were and one by one they looked to each other.

Hal was the first to follow the dark suited man, knowing nothing else to do but prove his loyalty to the man whom had saved him. Winston followed next, his fondness for both John and Erin corroding his cursed British common sense. He was soon trailed by Charon, whom had his own loyalties and fondnesses to consider. Aurelio swore before trying to catch up to the three men and pit bull he had successfully flown to Casablanca.

Yassin and Sofia exchanged a look and the Malinoises mimicked the humans before all four of the exiled from a Continental now deconstructed decided they had little else left to do then join John Wick and his companions.

John Wick felt them falling in behind him: his own desert caravan. It was comforting to know they were there but they were not the things which compelled him to move forward.

_"Erin."_

_"Yes."_

_"I'm coming."_

_"I know,"_ he heard her say, her voice as clear as a bell and as bright as a beacon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Keanu;
> 
> Today was the Santa Claus Parade in Toronto. Did you ever go to those? Did you meet Elfie Elf (is that even how it's spelled?) Was he played by Les Rubie or is that a mistake I made in my childhood, like thinking Roger Whittaker and Kenny Rogers looked alike and movies were all filmed somewhere close to Ottawa?
> 
> I heard the parade was online this year because of COVID19.
> 
> It made me sad to hear that The Matrix 4 will be streamed simultaneously to its release. Can it do as well then? I thought of you saying in Side by Side how theater experiences were different from the ones at home. You were right, of course. I remember the first sound from a film in the cinema and how it hits you and just fills you. They are in no way similar and I hope this doesn't mean the death of movie theaters like the Wachowskis predicted.
> 
> I want to sit with you in a darkened movie theater one day, if I can. I want to share those pheromones that you were talking about.
> 
> Much love,  
> Erin  
> XO XO  
> :D <3


	41. Under a Smiling Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Wick pursues me through the desert as the Elder's caravan moves forward...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Chad Stahelski;
> 
> I wish you could help me out with the action sequences in my fics because I suck at them. :/
> 
> yours truly;  
> Erin  
> :D <3

The caravan began its moving and John Wick started his following.

I was kept in the presence of the Elder, his eyes and nature wanting me continually in his sight. We were inside of a covered cart, two large camels pulling us over the dunes with a speed I would never have suspected. Several carts, bearing the boxes and materials I had noted upon my arrival, were being transported behind us. Peeking past the parting of the covering, I saw several of his men bolt past us on the horses, going off to who knew where.

 _"What does it look like? Where you are now?"_ John ordered. _"Give me some detail. Use your writer's eye."_

I gazed back at the oasis and tried to describe it in detail, from the body of water resembling a kidney bean and the number of palms that were situated around it. As I saw some of the Elder's men brushing over the path we were making, making it disappear, my voice faltered but I became even more urgent in my descriptions knowing it could help my Alpha find me.

 _"Good,"_ he praised. _"Now which direction are you moving in?"_

 _"John, I've never been great with stuff like that,"_ I confessed. _"Even with a compass in my hand, I was never sure what I was doing."_

 _"Funny,"_ he mused. _"You're the one who finally brought back some direction into my life."_

My cheeks burned as I felt very pleased despite my fear.

 _"What is the pattern of the trees closest to your back?"_ my Alpha asked, moving on to an easier way to tell my direction: by turning the oasis itself into a compass.

Comforted by John Wick's wisdom in the face of my unsurety, I once again told him in great detail what I saw until the curtain was shut forcefully, stealing the view. Turning my head, I looked up to see the High Table's superior standing above me.

"No, Erin," he chastised. "You're giving your mate information to help him locate us, are you not?"

I didn't deny it. What was the point? Instead, I focused on warning my mate. _"He knows,"_ I sent John Wick a message before the Elder unexpectedly brought his hands to my head. He was holding a piece of cloth and sought to cover my eyes with it. "No!" I protested, struggling as he tied the item over my face. When I went to rip it off, I felt my hands being tied behind my back to prevent the action.

 _"Erin?"_ John asked again, sensing that something was wrong.

 _"He's blindfolded and bound me,"_ I replied, feeling helpless. _"I can't see anything!"_

Always thinking one step ahead, my Alpha asked, _"Do you feel them turning the caravan?"_

 _"No,"_ I replied.

_"Let me know if it happens."_

The caravan jolted but I felt nothing more betrayed than just a bump over the terrain. Still, I reported it just to be safe. _"John...I'm scared,"_ I added at the end of the message.

 _"Have you gone into labor?"_ he asked calmly.

_"No."_

_"Save your worry til then,"_ he instructed. _"It will be better for the baby. And there's a chance I'll reach you before it starts."_

I bit my lip, closed my eyes and tried to focus on our child, sending words of both our love to the unborn yet still living being and also pleading with it to wait just a little while longer.

Just a little while longer...

* * *

The six human and three canine travelers of John Wick's less impressive caravan walked steadily in the desert, during which time the sun glared down on them and each spent a moment or two complaining about their lack of arms, food, water and preperation. Only John held his tongue too busy talking with his abducted Omega and keeping her in a good place mentally and emotionally to worry about things as unimportant as guns, the heat, weariness, hunger and thirst. Their words became a drone in the background, he barely took the time to comment on or acknowledge.

Seeing his resolve and concern for Erin his caravan soon let off on their complaints and suffered the worst of the desert in silence.

It was a silence which was welcomed for as short as it lasted, suddenly being disturbed by the sound of horses, their movement and breath causing more noise than the muted sound of their hooves hitting sound.

"JOHN THEY'RE COMING!" Sofia cried out, seeing the group of the Elder's men approaching in the distance.

"HOW MUCH BLOODY AMMUNITION DO WE HAVE?" Winston shouted, pulling out his gun and checking it.

"Enough," John Wick stated, pulling out his own and shooting the lead rider off of his horse effortlessly.

The man fell into the sand, causing his now free horse to stand on its hind legs and cry in anger.

Aurellio let out his own cry. "That leaves four!" the mechanic declared proudly but soon added a "Fucking shit," as one of the Elder's men shot at him, only nearly missing.

While the other members of his caravan fell to the desert's floor to attempt compromised shots at the Elder's emissaries, John Wick stood unmoving where he was, choosing instead to stand and take aim at the enemy boldly. To fall meant to waste time getting back to his feet and now, when every second counted, it was something he could not afford.

While the desert sand greeted bullet after bullet to the ground close to his feet, the Baba Yaga, aimed and shot the Elder's greeting team one by one, making the horses all in turn react wildly in their confusion and bolt towards the living humans faster.

"GRAB THE HORSES!" Wick ordered and his soldiers followed their leader's instructions.

When a horse came close to him, John was the only one whom climbed on it instantly not loosing a beat. Pulling on the reigns and turning the creature around, the Alpha cried out to his Omega, _"Did you see a group horses leaving the caravan, Erin?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Okay...I know which direction to head in now,"_ he replied, riding towards his friends.

_"Did you just encounter them?"_

_"Yeah,"_ John answered. _"We don't have to rely on our feet now."_

 _"God's smiling down on you,"_ she said to which he replied, _"Only if I get to you in time."_

Back with the others, John looked to the four horses and the five humans gathered by them.

"Does your dog know how to ride, John?" Sofia asked. "Because mine, sure as hell don't."

The infamous assassin turned to the woman's help from the now extinct Moroccan Continental. "Yassin go back with Hal and the Malinoises to the city. Sofia, Aurelio, Winston and Charon follow me."

Quickly, those requested to follow, mounted their horses, while Yassin started to head back towards civilization with the dogs in tow. Hal, at the rear of the line, stopped however, gazing up at the man whom had saved him, not wanting to leave his human friend and savior behind. John smiled at the pit bull and nodded. "She'll want to see you again when I bring her back," he informed. "Stay safe."

Hal threw a quick glance to Yassin, then back to John and soon bounded off to catch up, hoping to have his master and the woman whom had named him back soon to keep him company.

* * *

After twenty minutes of traversing the desert, trying to keep to myself the fact that John had defeated the riders the Elder had sent out, I exhaled in frustration as I once again acted as an unwilling spy to the enemy. "I take it John Wick survived my welcome party," the Elder said calmly. "Do not let it get your hopes up though, Erin," he warned. "We are not only moving to buy time until the moment of your's and John's child's birth but to reach my true army, as well."

I thought of the many men and women I had seen already and asked, "This isn't your army?"

He laughed in reposed amusement. "No. Against these few John Wick might stand a chance. I am not a fool when it comes to the skill of the Baba Yaga. He has saved up much wrath against me, ever since my father murdered his father. Your kidnapping is merely the piece of straw to break the proverbial camel's back. However, against my true legion, he cannot hope to win."

There was a second of silence before he added, "Relate that to your lover now, if you so wish."

As I did.

* * *

 _"This was the place where they brought her first,"_ John Wick thought as he sat on his horse by the water's edge. He let it drink while studying the surrounding desert sand, which did not reveal where she had been taken, the evidence having been removed quickly and efficiently by more of the Elder's men.

It had turned to night and his companions were drinking from water, reflecting crescent moon. Winston knelt by it and washed his face, the scar on his neck standing out red and painful. The horses now also drank, having been pushed to their limit first by the Elder's riders and then by John Wick himself.

When the latter had wanted to push forward, Winston had stopped him telling him they needed rest or else they would be worn out before ever reaching the caravan or Erin.

Now the Alpha stared up at the moon and remembered another night, not so long ago and not so near, but one which felt both like yesterday and a million years before.

_"Remember that night when you were waiting on the fire escape? When you first told me that you'd be my Omega?"_

* * *

Lying on the cart's shaking floor, I heard John Wick's longing voice inside of my mind and did not need to remove the blindfold to see the crescent moon which he was currently staring at has memory took hold of him.

 _"Yes,"_ I replied. " _You looked at my legs, saw that I wasn't wearing any underwear and had the decency to look away eventually even though you'd be having me soon. I was so happy...to finally have an Alpha. And that he was you."_

 _"Are you still happy, even though...?"_ he asked.

 _"Always,"_ I returned.

Silence under the cresent moon.

 _"You remember the first heat we shared?"_ he finally asked.

 _"Yes,"_ I cooed. _"I remember what you felt like sliding inside of me for the first time...I felt whole."_ I could almost feel him entering me again and the feel of his stubble nuzzling against my neck in his own lusty remembrance. _"I was looking forward to that againafter the baby was born," I confessed. "Your return...I miss you being inside of me, John Wick."_

 _"I miss being there,"_ he returned.

A strong memory claimed me, the sensation of my lover taking me, his hands on my ass while his head was buried into my breasts, kissing and suckling them, his knotting... I moved my legs in a strong arousal that coursed through my whole body.

Knowing the strong sexual sweep of my thoughts, an idea occurred to my mate.

 _"Keep thinking of it,"_ he replied. _"Every so often. Think of us being together like that again. Let it make you wet."_

 _"John Wick, I think you've been out under the hot sun too long,"_ I replied teasingly.

 _"I''ll smell your arousal,"_ he explained. _"I can use it to follow you...even now I can smell it brought to me on the wind."_

I moved my legs feeling the wetness there. Tears fell from my eyes in want and I wondered if the wind carried them to him also.

 _"My head is between your legs,"_ he crooned to me. _"I'm tasting you...you're my favorite feast."_

I stifled my moan, not wishing the Elder to know of my pleasure although he would probably smell it if he paid me too much attention. Luckily business had reached him, news from the Table of something that had caused a minor concern.

_"My hands reach for your breasts; I'm playing with your nipples...gradually, I move my head up to take them in my mouth and use my tongue on them instead."_

"You say that they are nowhere to be found?" I heard the Elder asking past my bliss.

"Yes," came the reply. "The Academy is gone too..."

 _"I'm poised at your entrance,"_ John whispered dirtily and huskily to me. _"The head of my cock touching, rubbing your labia. I lick your breasts before I devour your lips, pushing in at the same time..."_

"Are they connected to?"

"But the King is enemies with..."

_"I'm swollen, hot and thick inside of you now..."_

_"John..."_

_"Moving, thrusting...I want you so bad all the power is in my penis which is filling you, hitting your clit...your womb, threatening to make you drown under my need for you..."_

_"Unh..."_

"They'll be here by morning...They'll reach him, us by..."

I could almost feel John's width and length inside of me, bringing me to an orgasm he had caused in my body, soul and mind. I bit down painfully hard to stop my cry, feeling my lower half convulsing sending out the cream which would hopefully lead my Alpha to me.

Only the wetness was too much...

I had not only released the fluid of my climax...

A sharp pain seized me, one that made my bite deepen enough to cause blood. I could not risk the Elder finding out about John's attempt to use the scent of my arousal as a tracker.

But more importantly, I could not let him know about the other scent that John Wick could now follow.

 _"John..."_ I whispered. _"My water just broke..."_

Fear came to me under the moon, as violent as the climaxes of our heated unions. My labor had started; the countdown to the baby's death and my own had begun and ringing home with each contraction would be just how long John Wick had to save us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Keanu;
> 
> So after months of avoidance, I had been checking out news stories with you. Gotta say, I'm going back to being blissfully and willfully unaware. Seeing your private life, I know I'll never be a part of it (though I wish you all the best) so it's best not to look. But before swearing off, I also encountered some of your more zealous fans. Whom also seem to be, oddly enough, your most zealous haters. They introduced me to this word "Twin Flame" and I looked it up to see what it meant: A soul split up and placed into two bodies? 
> 
> It seems to me that people just became tired of the word soulmates and had to start using something else. You know, like department stores get tired of the layout every once in a while and move things around? Or the soda companies develop different cans? 
> 
> But I don't want to be somebody else! I want to be me! I know that Eve came from Adam (I still believe that, even if I'll get laughed at) but she was still very much her own person, I believe, for better or worse. And while I want to share things in common with my soulmate, I don't want to be exactly alike.
> 
> Dr. Ruth said she was a big believer in opposites attracting. My mother watched this preacher who gave a sermon once saying that your mate should be someone whom isn't like you. If they are, you essentially cancel each other out. There's nothing to learn, no discoveries to make. You become like those two annoying chipmunks on the Warner Bros. cartoon.
> 
> God created hills and valleys, rivers and mountains, deserts, forests and jungles. He delights in difference not in a flat, same plain.
> 
> So, I'm staying my own person, thank you very much, and I'm sticking with soulmate because I do believe that every person has someone designed with them in mind. It's just what are the chances of finding them? There are over 7 billion people in the world. We're all confined to where we are, what we do and responsibilities. Odds are, we'll never find them so many of us settle and then are left feeling like something is missing or we stay alone. It reminds me of this line from Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol:
> 
> "A hand for each hand was planned for the world  
> Why don’t my fingers reach?
> 
> A million grains of sand in the world  
> Why such a lonely beach?"
> 
> Are you my soulmate? You very well might be. Or you very well might not be. But I'll never meet you to find out so it's best to avoid prying into your attempts to find your own or to watch you merely settle while you probably don't know that I exist.
> 
> I'm very much a cynical romantic. That might seem odd with the amount of romances I write but it's true. I love with my whole heart but my brain keeps pace with it. My grandmother used to say that life was 1 darn thing after another and love was 2 darn things after each other. 
> 
> The first thing I usually think of, when I develop a crush, is the reminder that they go to the bathroom just like I do. I try to remember that they are only human. Funnily enough, I didn't think of that with you until that scene in My Own Private Idaho when Scott goes into Mike's brother's bathroom. And I couldn't understand why it hadn't occurred to me before. :/
> 
> Yesterday, I read the synopsis to Notting Hill after seeing it referenced in a review to a certain other film called Always be My Maybe. It was fine enough, but some things made me raise an eyebrow in scepticism. Then I read Hugh Grant's recent statement about the sequel he would like to make, where it shows how horrid it all went, and his desire to show how all of his rom coms were lies. That made me laugh. 
> 
> Which reminds me, I gave Destination Wedding a second chance and enjoyed it more. I let my own insecurities get in the way before. I'm too sensitive. I know that. I want to change but am afraid that the outcome would involve becoming insensitive, which is worse.
> 
> Maybe this cynical romantiscm comes from seeing my parents split up. We used to always ask mom if she and dad were going to divorce. Being children of the eighties, it was the subject of many a sitcom episode or family oriented special. She always said no and that she loved our father. But a few years later it happened and I can't say it was for the worst, giving how dad was. Still, it hurt to hear her contradict herself one day and claim to never have loved the man that she had married.
> 
> Maybe you have the same problem. Your parents divorcing and all of those men coming and going out of her life. Maybe love seems like a nice fairytale, but experience taught you better. I hope one day, though, another experience will teach you otherwise. Because, despite my brain, or maybe because of it, I still believe in love and that maybe the right hand will reach yours and mine one day.
> 
> The only problem is, I wish our hands would fit together because I won't hold on to any other. 
> 
> Only yours.
> 
> Much love,  
> Erin  
> XO XO  
> :D <3


	42. Across the Desert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Wick fails to reach me before I am brought to the Elder's stronghold, but discovers he has an unexpected army all his own...

The members of John Wick's caravan looked at their leader in startled wonder. The Baba Yaga had let out a tormented cry loud enough to disrupt the seemingly impenetrable night calm of the desert surrounding them. It was a haunted, angry sound, lost and clawing at God while at the same time pleading with Him for any help or small hope. Looking across the vast desert, John saw Erin huddled on the floor of the Elder's cart. He saw and smelled the unfamiliar scent of water broken, mixed in with the oft tasted cream between thighs he had licked it off from before and considered himself blessed.

Now he felt her pain, though, when once he had tasted her pleasure; he felt her fear and shared it, the emotions being his own and feeling as if it weighed almost as much as the world he had half traveled to reach her. John experienced the same dread that had seized him when he had learned of Helen's illness: that every minute now was leading up to his lover's death.

And their baby's too.

But while Helen's enemy had been something impossible to defeat and faceless in its way, Erin and his child's tormentor was not.

And thus it could be stopped.

Although, Winston and Aurelio were walking tentatively towards him, on the verge of having gathered enough courage to ask what was wrong, John did not wait for their arrival or a question he had no time to answer. He kicked the horse with the side of his foot, telling it the time had reached its end for resting. The creature cried out once before starting back out into the desert, leaving behind an oasis of confused travelers and letting one determined and emboldened assassin indicate which direction to take, guided by love and the scent of the Omega whom had become precious to him.

* * *

The Elder stopped his discussion with the servant and presumanly looked out towards the still closed curtains of the cart at where a sound had penetrated the stillness of the night. He had heard the sound of John's cry but had not felt it through every nerve and cell in his body as I had. My Alpha was suffering and I could not comfort him, as was both my spiritual and natural inclination, being the very source of his sorrow.

My captor rose and stepped over me, avoiding the large pregnant belly, which I was holding onto protectively. I heard him parting the folds of the caravan's coverings. "John Wick is in pain," he stated. "But why...I have not..." he mumbled and then quickly stopped to turn and look at me, I guessed.

The hope of keeping my labor from the Alpha whom was not my own quickly evaporated. The Elder fell to his knees by my stomach and brought his head to my groin, beginning to smell the area there. I cried out but he stopped soon enough.

" _He knows, John_ ," I sent the message to my mate. _"He knows that it's started."_

 _"DAMN IT!"_ I heard my Alpha swear inside of my already distressed thoughts.

The Elder tore off my blindfold and I discovered his face an inch from my own. "You are in labor," he said in sympathetic victory. "How long has it been since...?"

I bit my lips, feeling as if I had already betrayed the baby within me.

"As long as it took him to scream..." the Elder stated in understanding and touched my face. "You do truly love each other."

"Yes," I whispered, begging him with my eyes and trying to perhaps move his heart and more nobler character to set me free. "With the whole of our hearts...please...John was my first Alpha; I never knew another. And I became his life after Helen died...we love each other...don't take what we both have found for some past sin..."

The Elder looked touched but his words showed that even this was not enough to keep him from the plans he had laid out months before for me, possibly from the very moment John Wick had chosen a mate that once more opposed the Table and himself. "I understand...and finding such a love for us men in power is truly _rare_. I live a lonely existence, for to trust your heart with another human soul is when we are our most vulnerable and my father entrusted me with this role where weakness is not permitted. It is a fact your John has now discovered too. But for that very reason I cannot spare you. To do so is to forgive the many trangressions that the Baba Yaga has commited against me. And have no doubt, _you_ are one of those sins. There are no past ones while you and your child, conceived without my blessing, live. Only if I take you both from John Wick can he be atoned. But he will not wish to live with such absolution. You will die, he will seek to kill me and then he will join you...so do not fret my child...both your sorrows will be short lived. You can bring your baby into this world comforted in this."

"ONLY FOR YOU TO KILL IT!" I screamed in agony.

The man nodded, as reposed as always. "Be grateful for that also...it shall never know the suffering that its life would have inevitably held being the child of the Baba Yaga...a murderer."

I glared at the Elder for two seconds before spitting directly into his face.

* * *

The moment Erin had warned him that the Elder was aware of her labor, John had known he had been the cause. However, the time which could have spent on self blame and recrimination, he chose instead to use to focus on getting to her. He had left his people behind, but hoped that they were close enough to follow him. If they could all reach the Elder's caravan before it reached the man's secret army, they stood a chance.

Otherwise,the chance of saving Erin was drastically decreased if not close to being destroyed completely.

Racing across the desert, he pictured Erin safely held within him once more, promising himself that he would not let the Elder take her from him. To do so would be to rip the heart and soul from him at for she carried him inside of her also.

 _"What's going on?"_ he asked, a blur on the back of the horse beneath the black blanket of stars and the cresent moon.

_"He's cleaning his face."_

_"Why?"_

_"I spit on him."_

_"Erin..."_

_"He called you a murderer."_

_"Have you forgotten, that's what I am?"_

_"Well, put it to good use then, come and kill this son of a bitch."_

_"I'm trying,"_ John Wick replied. _"Are you at his encampment yet?"_

 _"Not..."_ the Omega started to reply but then stopped.

* * *

"Not yet," was what I wanted to tell my Alpha, the Elder having stood to share intense words with the other man inside of the cart, but soon the cries and shouts of the caravan stole my words away and I realized in dread that it was too late.

We had arrived.

"We have _come_ ," the Elder announced, my discarded blindfold still by my head, unneeded now that I was in labor, but more importantly, that we had reached our destination. "You really are quite the honored two, you Erin and your mate," the man stated, in a tone which confessed that he was arrogantly proud to have blessed both John Wick and myself in his benevolency. "Very few have had the honor of being allowed anywhere near my desert stronghold. And your child will be the first born here."

"If you forgive me," I stated, "I'd rather have been spared from your 'honor' and have much rather preferred giving birth in the underwear section of a Walmart."

The Elder started to laugh then, a deep booming sound that filled the cart.

While he was giving in to his amusement, I sent John the message that I had been brought to where the Elder kept his army. Which led to the most important question to my Alpha following the news that he was too late to reach me. "How far are the contractions?"

I swallowed but was grateful of the answer I could give him. "You've got time," I replied. "They haven't started yet."

When they did arrive, I knew how to handle them, having learnt how to breathe from my classes, ones my Alpha had to be with me in spirit instead of physically there by my side.

Just as he would have to me now during the real thing if he could not find a way to breach the encampment's security.

* * *

John Wick saw the caravan reaching the encampment in the desert. It contained more tents rather than the rumored castles and walls of stone that were whispered about under the breaths of those whom lived on and below the Table, the world over. John wondered whom had started those tales. Had any of the 12 of the Table ever even made it this close to where all of the Elder's power and wealth was stored? And if they had, were the lies created to make what was swallowing the carts (one which held his Omega) seem more threatening?

It was bad enough as it was, John Wick thought bitterly. From his vantage point, there were enough tents to hold over fifteen thousand men, living in conditions far from luxurious. From his experience, he knew that this lack of comfort would have only made the Elder's army better fighters. The times where he had been on missions with Marcus, in areas devoid of things such as beds, toilets, stoves or even stable rooftops, had taught him that being pampered did not make for good warriors. Necessity, poverty bred that far better.

Refined mental cruelty was a skill more reserved for the rich and powerful, such as the Elder.

Not daring to get closer, realizing that it was unlikely any of the Elder's men would kill him from a distance and steal the honor from their master (but still knowing it was not worth the gamble,) John Wick stopped his horse on the rise of a faraway dune and watched from across the desert, the sun on its journey to reclaim its position in the lightening sky, while the caravan members began to leave their carts.

He kept his eyes focused, looking for the woman he loved amongst the travellers, spotting her almost instantly in a dress of royal blue and in the Elder's arms

* * *

I tried to struggle out of the Elder's one handed grip while he forced me out of the cart and into his encampment, which wasn't a fortress at all but rather a vast amount of tents and temporary lodgings, staggering in size in, what I assumed, was the center of the desert.

That was when my eyes fell across the sands, into the distance and landed on the familiar shape of a man in a black suit, sitting on a horse, his eyes fixed on the only pregnant woman in the group. John Wick stared at me, having found me instantly and I stopped in the Elder's grip to stare at my mate in longing.

 _"John..."_ I whispered.

 _"Erin,"_ he called back.

"Come!" the Elder stated, having followed my eyes to where his enemy sat on horseback, the sun rising in the desert behind him.

I was pulled roughly, crying out to my lover, both my voice and my hand reaching out for him. "LOVE!" I cried out, feeling that it was the best word to send to my mate for it said it all: "I _love_ you...you are my _love_."

"LET HER GO!" John Wick shouted. "TAKE ME! I'M THE ONE WHOM BETRAYED YOU!"

The Elder loudly shouted out his reply with cursed resolve. "IT IS MY STRENGTH TO KNOW MY ENEMY'S WEAKNESS! THIS IS HOW BEST I CAN HURT YOU, JOHN WICK!"

I instinctively grabbed the Elder's free hand, a move he was not expecting, and bit it, causing him to set me free for a second. I took one step forward until a contraction, my first, claimed me and in my pain I fell to the sand on my knees, still reaching out. "Ahhhhhhhh!" I screamed out in agony and couldn't help but blink in the resulting pain.

John Wick's concern came rushing towards me, the only flood in the desert.

The Elder grabbed me once more and pulled me to my feet roughly, using both hands now, and my thoughts went to the life within me.

 _"My love,"_ I heard John whisper before I was dragged past a series of tents and out of his vision.

* * *

John Wick spent the following hour pacing several feet away, waiting for his less than impressive army. When they finally arrived, the three men and one woman looked at him with worry written on their frowning faces and he gave them news which was bad but better than they might have been expecting. "She's all right but she's gone into labor."

The only one present to have gone through that herself, asked as she dismounted, "How far along are the contractions?"

John Wick answered with the latest information Erin had offered and the female assassin nodded. "I'll say she has until midnight."

Winston, whom had already departed from his own horse, looked at the Elder's encampment and began to shake his head. "We have our work cut out for us. Barely enough ammunition to take down the third of a line waiting to get into Trader Vics, in full view and the element of surprise made completely null and void in the battlefield we've been given."

The Englishman turned to Wick and took a deep breath. "Any suggestions?"

"I already offered the Elder myself instead of her," John stated sorely. "He didn't take it."

"Most honorable, sir," Charon remarked.

"Why?" John Wick asked the concierge. "I'm dead without her anyway."

While Charon nodded his head in sympathy, Aurelio shook his own, studying the army. "Fucking shit, John...there are about fifteen thousand men down there. How are we supposed to take that on? I mean, I know you're John Wick but...that's crazy...that's fucking crazy, man."

John Wick was about to reply that they would find a way when the words stopped on his tongue as he stared at the Elder's army and the tents, blowing in a breeze which offered no true relief. He knew which one held his stolen mate, simply because he could smell her strongly now, his senses heightened in his need to protect her and their soon to be born child. He saw the men at work and this was what caught his attention. They were readying their artillery, barricading the tents round about with a wall made of soldiers. The army was preparing for war, although their opponents were so very few...

This spoke of waste...

Something that the Elder would never do with either his ammunition or men.

John Wick felt a flicker of hope in his heart even before he heard Winston declare, "Jonathan...look."

Spinning around once more, John Wick saw another army flanking them from behind. It was in no way as large as the Elder's but it was far from small. A group as diverse as the city where Erin and he had first met was coming closer towards them across the floor of the desert. Inside of this army, the rich were mixed with the poor, the homeless joined by those whom called theirs' a theater, one which claimed to make ballerinas and wrestlers but created assassins as well. Those ballerinas and past graduates such as himself walked side by side with the vagrants of New York City, so that graceful athletic violence was contrasted perfectly with clever, streetwise brutality.

And at the forefront walked the two leaders and teachers of this ragtag army that God had brought to John Wick across the searing sand in answer to his desperate, yet seemingly heard, prayer.

The Director and the Bowery King walked like a pauper monarch with his regal queen, as out of place by each other's side in the Sahara as any city creatures would be but completely owning it regardless.

As they finally reached John Wick, Charon, Winston, Aurelio and Sofia, both the King and the Director stared at the Baba Yaga with stone cold glares under a burning hot sun.

"Jardani Jovonovich," the woman whom had raised him stated, staring at her former pupil with indifference. "Have you found the woman whom bears your child?"

"Yes," John Wick replied.

"Would you accept the help of my students, both present and of yesterday, to insure the continuance of your bloodline?"

"It would be an honor," Jovonovich replied in their mutual native tongue.

"John Wick, talk so we all can understand you now," the Bowery King ordered. "We didn't steal every aircraft in all of the Big Apple to come here only to be excluded..."

"No, I guess not," Wick stated with a nod.

The Bowery King studied him as arrogantly as ever before asking, "What do you think? Is it time for a rematch?"

"A rematch it is," John said, clenching his fists in his own preparation for a battle he now believed could be won.

"Good," the Bowery King said, exchanging a glance with the Director standing by his side. "But let me say this first...this mighty fine woman and myself had ourselves a little chat on the way over here and we both agree..."

John stood waiting as both broke out into large smiles, "You're about as deadly with passive aggressive bullshit and guilt trips as you are with a gun or a fucking pencil."

The assassin looked at them both blank faced.

"Whatever gets the job done," John Wick replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Keanu;
> 
> One chapter left. I really still wish that I could have yours and Chad's help with the upcoming final chapter. Ballerina and vagrants fighting vicious desert vagabonds under a desert moon...John Wick's showdown with the Elder...that is what you guys handle so very well. I'm in amazement of it and you have my admiration and respect. This is all inspired by you guys. 
> 
> I only hope I will make you proud of me. That would be another gift this Christmas :D <3
> 
> Much love,  
> Erin  
> XO XO  
> :D <3


	43. Under a Blood Red Moon, Above the Table and In Loving Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Wick fights the Elder as I give birth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas Keanu and everyone!
> 
> Okay. Last chapter to my longest fic. Honestly, I couldn't get my motivation going yesterday to write this, knowing I had to explain so much. Ever see Thumb Wars? If you have, remember that scene where the Princess Leia thumb runs to the ship, giving the lazy plot excuse "I escaped somehow?" so they didn't have to bother showing it? That's what I wanted to do here.
> 
> But I made myself write the sequences which intimidated me and I put my whole heart and soul into it, like I try to do with every story in this series. So, here comes the grand finale...
> 
> But expect a one shot sequel on Orthodox Orthodox Christmas. ;D <3

I had never been been intolerant to pain.

Throughout my life, I had endured both physical and mental anguish, and suffered each as if some part of me believed that it was somehow weak and wrong of me to voice my suffering and the fear that I somehow _deserved_ it. 

I was taken to the tent my captor had apparently requested be made ready for our arrival and placed on the table where I was prepared for the birth of my first child. A midwife was present, and I felt more relieved than embarrassed as she checked to see how far I was dilated, my natural concern for the baby overriding any humiliation of a stranger looking at my most intimate of areas. I was focusing on my breathing and the occassional soothing croon from John as the woman related the information to the Elder, whom sat before me, positioned in such a way to keep me in his vision at all time but without exploiting me.

At his feet lay a scimitar. Recently it had been polished and it caught the candles that had been lit inside of the tent as night eventually came and a moon, one he intended to color red by the end of that same night, appeared in the sky. Shining as it was, I saw too the scimitar's sharpened curved blade and had to keep from my mind the imagined image of the blood of both the baby drawing closer to being born and my own covering it.

And so the Elder heaped an agony on me that afflicted both body and spirit on in equal measure, trying to make the final moments of my life echo the thread which had twined together throughout my existence, while John was there reminding me of its brief but beautiful pleasures.

"He is out there...your John Wick...my Baba Yaga," the Elder stated now, his eyes intense and penetrating on me. "He and his poor man's army. I cannot even tell you that I believe that he will not win. Incentive has a way of giving men like John Wick the strength that they need. Perhaps even his father might have succeeded should he have had such proper motivation..."

His eyes traveled to my stomach and to the knees which were tented but that he could not see between.

"That could be my downfall...my most grevious oversight...to try to take from him the only thing he has..."

 _"Erin..."_ I heard John say my name.

"But even if he somehow manages to defeat my army, I'll still deprive him..." the Elder's calm fingers gripped around the hilt of the scimitar...

_"I'm coming for you..."_

the Elder looked at its blade and then at me, "of what he truly wants."

_"Both of you."_

* * *

They had spent the day planning for this moment of darkness in the desert.

Daylight would not serve them; its heat and its light doing them no favors in their leader's hope to take down the Elder's army. They needed a sky of black to hide their actions from the enemy and to pray that they could somehow force their way into the encampment. A line was formed at the front, consisting of the worst of their warriors. It hurt John Wick to label these ones, mostly men belonging to the Bowery King, as liabilities but that was what they were right now.

So, they became human shields, used to protect those of the Director's students and graduates whom had a chance to win against the enemy when they invaded the stronghold.

Still, John Wick consoled himself with one small fact, the men and women whom made up the frontline were those whom would bare the most protection.

With them both, the Director and King had brought vast amounts of weapons and armours, some of it bulletproof as the suit had been that he had worn to Gianna's Coronation. John Wick insured that it was used primarily on the shields, for not only was it necessary to ensure the survival of those willing to sacrifice themselves as long as needed until the encampment was breached but they had earned it. While they were physically weaker than the others, their spirits possessed a strength the regular assassins could only beg to God to possess. It took courage to walk towards one's death and so John Wick chose to give them a fighting chance at life.

These soldiers were dressed from head to feet so that almost no area was left bare for the enemy to target and wound. Bulletproof cloth was wrapped around their faces, making Aurellio remark that they looked like an army of mummies in the desert, which earned a scathing glance from Sofia, one which didn't succeed in shuting him up any.

There was no larger plan made instead of this: to push themselves upon the enemy's territory and then to start the killing, each man in the way that they had been trained and for some in those ways which they sought to wound.

John Wick knew that he would be fooling himself to believe that all had come merely come to help him out of some basic decency. Some had been persuaded for what he might eventually offer them if he managed to pull off his scheme to rescue the woman pregnant with his child.

Others did it out of the desire for fame or maybe boredom.

A few, the _blessed_ few, hoped for a change in the system that was now eroding and becoming toxic and dangerous for most whom lived under it.

And then there were the final soldiers whom had come simply to satiate the need for violence and the desire to shed human blood. There existed no jealousy like Cain's in their blood, no motive. Only the love of death completely.

And in these last few their only hope might lie, John Wick understood with regret. For they would be the strongest and most able to take the lives of the men whom had sworn their servitude to the Elder.

Wick knew this best. Once he had been like them; before he had fallen in love with a woman named Helen.

Standing at the ready, John Wick looked across the desert at the encampment, from his army's momentary rest on the hill, his eyes finding the one tent he knew Erin was inside of, her scent being brought to him and the pain of her labor hitting him constantly like a heartbeat.

He sent to her a message before he even offered one to his men:

_"Erin...I'm coming for you...both of you."_

_"We'll be here,"_ she returned past an agony both physical and emotional.

John Wick held his hand in the air, studying for a second the army and the frontline of men swaddled like mummies and then lowered his hand, offering the signal for them to start moving as quickly as they could towards their likely deaths.

* * *

I had heard the first shot ring out in the night and cried out as simultaneously a sharper, more impatient pain, hit me minutes.

The fighting had begun outside, while my labor was becoming more insistent inside the tent and I briefly wondered if the sounds of battle were calling to my child too, having a strong trace of their father's more brutal nature in them.

The midwife was attending to me, repeatedly going to the stand by my head, bearing a bowl and a pitcher filled with water. She used this to dampen my face and keep me cool, beads of sweat falling down it in my agony even as the heat of the day lessened in the night.

The Elder looked at me in disapproval. He shouted a question to the midwife, whom reported back my status, which apparently displeased him further..

"You must let go, Erin. Your time will come, you will die and so will your child. Even if you think you are winning, your body will soon take over."

I threw my head back as another contraction came, trying to prove to me that his words were correct. My cervix was dilating further, the baby closer to the actual moment of birth. Hearing the sounds of more fighting outside, I understood that I could not call my love. To do so during the carnage outside would cause distraction and death. His last message to me was to warn me of it. 

I would only hear from him if he was close to dying...

So I prayed not to hear from him at all.

But my time was growing closer...

The Elder continually watched my progress, the scimitar by his feet and ready to be used. If John and mine's child had a hope, it would equally depend on me trying to escape from under that piercing stare, I realized.

My head still resting on a pillow smelling of incense, meant to calm me before my murder, my eyes rested on the heavy gold pitcher by the bowl of water near me as my mind formed a plan, wetting my lips with a prayer I could not let pass them.

* * *

The frontline had pushed bravely forward into the encampment, John Wick placing himself in the middle of the soldiers, during the approach, not longing to be too far at the back incase of an unexpected attack from the opposing direction but also because it was killing him in its own way that he could not be the first inside of the camp so he could get to his Omega as quickly as possible. Those surrounding him looked both pleased to have him near and confused, wondering why, when he had placed the finest assassins at the back, he had situated himself with lesser ranked killers. He was the Baba Yaga, after all.

Soon, the encampment was entered, its security breached but not without the expense of some of their own number, they saw the man fighting to push forward and suddenly understood the reason for his placement.

Quickly the soldiers dispersed to tackle the enemy one and one, or oftentimes five to one. They watched as Wick pressed forward still, using the gun in his hand or the one not holding it to end the lives of any and all of the Elder's men in his path. Along the way, he acquired a scimitar from one of the more deadly looking of his advesary's but not before feeling its edge slice through his side and draw blood, before stopping the attacker with a bullet shot to the head.

John could not allow himself to even stop to see the progression of his soldiers, whom was living and dying behind or around him, having won his place at the head of the line, as the living shields began to put their lesser skills to work against stronger foes. Although he pictured the army behind him, ballerinas with their beautiful graces and vagrants with their streetwise agility, he kept his attention only on moving forward, thinking he heard familiar voices crying out behind him, but unable to see if it was from injury, fierceness or fatality.

There were the lives of many good people being lost but they had lost those lives for a cause, John Wick thought as he sliced through several of the Elder's subjects, painting his new sword red. To turn and look back would not revive the dead and might only make the whole mission for nothing and the lives lost in vain.

Still as he killed man after man before him and heard death being meted out behind, both to ally and enemy, he pictured the sand turning crimson and the moon becoming a giant looking glass in the sky, mirroring the grainy ocean of blood beneath it.

* * *

"AGHHHHHHHHHHHHH," I screamed again, trying to keep to my breathing but wishing I was in a hospital in New York with some good pain killers nearby.

Tears were falling from my eyes, intermingled with sweat; the midwife was between my legs as I felt desperation mixing in with hopelessness too. "I'm in his arms," I kept reminding myself. _"I am inside of him and our child is inside of me..."_

Only that same child was wanting to come out and the Elder was right, I could not stop it

Suddenly the midwife left her place between my knees and walked quickly over to the Elder. Clearly something was wrong and she went to talk to her master before continuing. Their voices were raised and she seemed agitated, upset, as the man began to shout at her. He screamed and she ran off, weeping.

The Elder was walking towards me and I shivered, feeling that he was not prepared to wait any longer, that his patience had run out. The scimitar was clutched in his hand and I was about to pick up the pitcher and use it for something other than what I had in mind when the curtains to the tent opened and a man barked out something to his master. In his outrage, the Elder left me, rushing to his soldier, the news apparently unwanted.

Their words were harsh and still shouted in a language I could not understand. What I did know was that my prayer had been answered, my captor's attention was off from me and his back was what was facing me now.

I grabbed the pitcher, thanking God not only for having heard me but that the object was so damn heavy too. One more prayer was sent to my Creator, this time that the Elder would not turn to look at me me as I waited for the soldier to leave and for the right opportunity to present itself. When the follower finally left, I knew that I had been heard again, for the Elder looked in frustration to the ground before he turned to me.

Finally returning his attention to what he had been doing, he turned to find me standing to his left. I forcefully brought the golden pitcher first up in his face, the water spilling from it, and then down on his head, each movement difficult and painful but committed because this was the only chance I could offer to my child for survival. My natural strength as a mother, protector and Omega was coming to the forefront, while I placed all my anger and pain in the blows, far more powerful than I had even managed when I had broken Leuce's nose so long ago in my New York City apartment. They made him fall to the ground, where I hit him once more. While the option to grab the scimitar came to me, seeing his fingers wrapped tightly around it, I knew that it was time I could not afford. Getting to one of John's soldiers was my first concern. Once there, I would have protection.

I stumbled out of the tent, aware that the baby was minutes from its grand entrance into a cruel world.

* * *

"JOHN!" the Baba Yaga heard his lover shouting not only in his mind. He was closing in on the tent she had been brought to and he suddenly knew that she had escaped from it somehow.

Killing two soldiers at once, one with the scimitar the other with a bullet from his gun, John Wick ran towards her, the fighting continuing around them.

* * *

"JOHN!" I cried, dropping the pitcher and falling against a tent, fearing that it was a matter of seconds before the Elder rose to his feet and pursued me, the tent being not so far behind.

The night smelled of gunpowder and blood and once again the baby pushed towards it arrival. "AHHHHHHH!" I screamed out from the strongest contraction yet.

Crying, unable to rise on my own, I blinked back tears as I saw a form step in front of me. While he was holding a scimitar, I held no fear of this particular Alpha.

"John," I whispered.

John Wick ran to me. One hand reached out to him while the other held firm grip on a belly which was close to letting go that which it had held safely for close to nine months now.

The assassin fell to my side, dropping the weapon I now saw was covered thickly in blood on to the desert floor beside the golden pitcher. He took my face in his hands and started to kiss me while I continued to weep (this time in joy,) kissing him in return. A cry broke the kiss and I fell over and against his chest. "I'm close, John..."

"I've got to get you somewhere," John said, holding me to him and then trying to pick me up.

"No," I cried in protest. "The Elder...I knocked him out. But I don't know for how long."

"What's going on?" the welcomed sight of Winston appeared soon followed by Charon.

"The baby's coming," John said, helping me rise to my feet, an act which took all my strength. "But so is the Elder."

My Alpha handed me over to the two men, Winston supporting my one side while Charon took the other, his arm at my back.

"Help her. I'll take care of him."

"John," I protested.

The assassin grabbed my head again and peered confidently into my eyes. "I've always been better at death more than life, " he confessed gently, lovingly careessing my cheek with his thumb, a tender motion I was very familiar with. "Maybe when this is all over we can change that."

"We will," I promised him.

"I love you, Erin," John told me again, without fear, the words I needed to hear.

"I love you, John," I offered them to him in return.

A kiss was given, quick but powerful, before my Alpha rushed towards the tent, Winston and Charon bringing me to the next empty one they could find.

* * *

His lips still tingling from that kiss he prayed would not be the last, John Wick tried to focus on getting to the tent quickly; if he could make it before the Elder regained consciousness, he stood a chance of finishing the man off simply and then having time to be by Erin's side for the labor. He had no idea what Winston knew of helping a woman give birth, but he certainly was old enough to have seen quite a lot so it was possible he'd know what he was doing.

Or maybe not. All John knew was that his Alpha instincts were strong to keep his Omega safe from both despots and makeshift Doctors alike.

Stepping into the tent, he wanted to be greeted with the form of the Elder but found only a large soaked patch of dirt, lying in his place

"You're mate was a fine choice, after all, it would appear," John suddenly heard a voice say and he looked up to see the Elder, bleeding from his temple and standing in the middle of the tent. "I think, if I had known her before, I might have approved of the family you made for yourself. But now, it is far too late."

"From what I heard, it was too late the moment I spared Winston," John stated walking closer towards his enemy.

The Elder nodded. "Yes. That bit of insubordination I could not pardon, John Wick. Or do you choose to die as Jardani Jovonovich?"

"I die as both. I will die as my Omega's Alpha," the man stated. "And as my child's father."

"It will be so then," the Elder remarked with a nod. "They shall bear your name when I bury them beside you."

The Man Above the Table then swung the scimitar, missing John Wick's head by only a single hair...

* * *

Winston and Charon brought me into the tent and my first fear was that my mate would not be able to find me until I realized that the scent would be strong enough to lead him to me no matter where I was. I screamed out again as they placed me on the ground and the small Englishman parted my legs, pushing my knees upwards.

"Sorry for the potential embarrassment, my dear Ariel, but I see no other way," he apologized, looking at me in regret.

"It's all right," I mumbled.

"Get some bloody hot water," Winston shouted at Charon.

"And where do you propose I find it in the middle of the desert, Sir?" the concierge asked in the most polite tone of sarcasm I had ever heard.

"Oh forget it," the Englishman snapped. "I have no idea what the hell it's for anyway. But remind me to dock your pay."

"If I remember, then, yes, Sir," the loyal concierge vowed.

"IT'S COMING!" I screamed out, feeling something pushing through.

"Oh bloody fuck," Winston said, taking another look and seeing my words were true.

* * *

John Wick tumbled, avoiding the scimitar coming towards him with a speed he had not expected from a man whom preferred the act of making decisions to actually carrying them out. Another slice soon followed and the assassin found himself only escaping the downward thrust of the sabre by pulling the lush, colorful carpet out from beneath the man's feet. Having hoped that the Elder would have stayed down long enough for him to finally be allowed to use his own blade and kill the man, the Elder was on his feet almost instantly in a flash of white.

Scimitar hit scimitar and the mutual impact made a loud silver clanking sound throughout the tent. It was the first of many attempted, sweep after sweep stopped or deflected. Neither opponent found themselves closer to victory, whenever an upperhand was found, quickly finding it lost again until the power switched back again and the deadly dance of steel continued throughout the tent, which was occassionally sliced and made open along the way.

Once the midwife returned and then ran off screaming.

This one move, however, distracted John Wick long enough to make a mistake, fearing at first that it gad been Winston with news of Erin's labor. The Elder knocked the assassin down, the scimitar falling from his hand and soon kicked away. The Man Above the Table pushed Wick down further, his foot upon his enemy's throat. John grabbed at it, feeling his air being stolen and realizing that the Elder was stronger or less worn out to be moved.

"You are a good fighter, John Wick," the Elder stated. "It was my greatest loss to have found your loyalty compromised by your emotions and false retirement...may you find your peace in a more _permanent_ one."

The Elder raised his scimitar, preparing to pierce Jardani Jovonovich through his forehead.

* * *

Winston's hands reached in deeper to help my child out, while I continued to push, just as I had learned. We both were lost in our own ways, but depending on each other for directions. Charon, meanwhile, looked on in concern, doubtful of his friend's skills at being a midwife but being surprised that he was not faring too badly.

Eventually, I felt that the child was more out than in and with a gentle but forceful pull, I had given birth to John and mine's first baby. It was crying and Winston looked down at it, seemingly offended by the sound.

"It's a boy," he said, about to hand it to me.

How I wanted to take him then, to wrap him in arms that were dying to hold him, healthy and alive and beautiful, but the pain was still coming. "Winston! Something's wrong," I cried.

"Wait," Winston said, stopping to stare between my legs again. "Bloody hell..."

* * *

Although it was the blade that was before his eyes, it was something else which was shining that caught John Wick's vision before he was about to send out his last thought of love and goodbye to Erin.

Sometime during their fight, a string had fallen loose around the Elder's neck and was now dangling there, catching the candlelight and his attention. John looked at it in awe, seeing the wedding ring Helen had once given him. It took only a second but its impact was even faster, going straight to his heart and soul. John Wick screamed out in painful remembrance and outrage, the pain from the loss of the finger returning but also the first more deeper and agonizing wound too...

The loss of Helen Wick herself.

John Wick grabbed the Elder's leg and twisted it, breaking it in one powerful movement, so it became loose and dangling in his hand.

The leader's cry was agonized, a more physical suffering than emotional as John Wick rose to his feet, grabbing the Elder's fallen scimitar and kicking the man onto his back.

When the Elder met his eyes, there was still little emotional suffering displayed on his face, only a respectful acceptance. "Do it quickly," he stated. "Bring me no shame."

At that last word, the final word the Elder would ever speak, John Wick cut off the man's head. Blood gushed out, coating the string that John removed easily now from the severed neck and which he nowplaced around his own.

John kissed the ring at its end once before he turned and left the tent to find the one with his Erin.

* * *

As John Wick found and then entered the tent where I had just finished giving birth, I smiled, knowing that my mate had been victorious and that we were all free.

That smile only grew as he looked at me holding the baby boy in my arms and the manager of the New York Continental holding onto a baby girl.

John was smiling fiercely now as he walked into the tent and towards me. "Two?"

"Yeah," I said.

"They're so small," he said in awe.

"I got to cut the cord, Mr. Wick," Charon said proudly.

"Don't pay me any attention," Winston stated, staring down at the wide eyed baby in his arms, "I only delivered the little angels. Isn't that right, little one?"

The Englishman walked to the man he had once shot off of his hotel's roof and handed him his daughter. "Here."

John took the baby and cradled her lovingly in his arms.

"What are you going to call them?" Charon asked. "I need to place their names on permanent registry at the Continental immediately after we get back."

John looked at me and I heard his thoughts in my head. "It's up to you; you did all of the work."

I didn't need to think for too long after seeing the ring around his neck.

* * *

John Wick heard his Omega speak the names she had chosen for their children and had to save himself from breaking down. If it had been only Erin present, he might have allowed himself to cry but with the two men there he fought it.

He got to his knees and kissed his lover. Parting from her slowly, John looked to his friends. "This one is Helena Daisy," he announced proudly. "And he's Marcus Igor. "

"Good nanes," Winston commented. "But, I'm warning you Jonathan Wick, if I don't get to be Godfather, I'm declaring you excommunicado all over again."

"Don't worry about it," John Wick remarked. "It's a given."

Winston was proudly beaming as the four adults suddenly realized something.

"The gunfire stopped," Erin commented, gazing up at him her eyes wide.

A few seconds later, Aurelio and Sofia appeared in the tent accompanied by one of the Elder's men.

"Is it over?" Winston asked the mechanic.

"Is it ever," he replied.

Quickly Aurelio, Sofia and the stranger went to the folds of the tents. John looked to his mate whom was still looking at him in curiousity and asked in thoughts, _"I saw that soldier talking to the Elder...Do you know what's going on?"_

John shook his head as Helena yawned in his arms, and nuzzling next to him, fell asleep.

The tent's walls raised, the sight which greeted John Wick and Erin was one that neither of them had ever expected. Around the tent, amongst the others still erected, they saw both sides of the war having stopped their fighting. Every soldier desert vagabond, ballerina or street derelict was facing the new father on their bended knee as if paying fealty to him.

"Sire" the Elder's right hand man stated as he too fell to one knee, quickly followed by Aurelio and more reluctantly by Sofia. "You are the man whom has defeated the Elder. This has not happened for centuries...now you, John Wick, are the Man Whom sits Above the Table..."

John felt his heart stop and then race.

Winston and Charon exchanged a glance before, smiling they went on one knee to their new leader, as well.

The Baba Yaga's mouth fell open, the child warm, safe and at peace in his arms. He looked at Erin in shock and then to Marcus fast asleep in her own embrace. His Omega shared his surprise in equal measure, the smile he had fallen in love with on her girlish face. "And you kept telling me you had no power," she teased.

John Wick closed his mouth and brought a hand to her face. "I don't know...how about it...do you want to be the Woman Above the Table, Miss Erin Kelly Smyth?" he asked.

"Is that an official proposal?" she asked, taken aback in the best of ways..

"Yes," he replied.

"Then that's my answer too," Erin said, her beautiful smile growing even wider. "But only on one condition."

"What's that?"

"I get to reign _under_ you too," she winked, the smile becoming rather naughty as she bit her lower lip.

John smiled at his lover, leaned forward and kissed her passionately in agreement to the ultimatum.

"Now acknowledge your people," Erin whispered softly.

* * *

John gave me a nod first and then our sleeping daughter, whom woke up for a moment in the transition, second. She rested in my arms beside her still sleeping brother and I watched their father let his gaze roam lovingly over all three of us as he rose to his feet.

He took his eyes from us with almost a look of pain as he he turned to face the kneeling people, raising the Elder's bloody scimitar in the air, a symbolic gesture of his acceptance of the new role as the Elder.

As each man and woman lowered their heads, John's eyes found mine again and his joy returned fourfold as he smiled down lovingly at me.

The One Above the Table.

My Alpha.

John Wick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Keanu;
> 
> There it was. Yeah, the action was crappy. I try but I am very aware of my weaknesses. 
> 
> I hope you have a fantastic Christmas. I'm thinking of you.
> 
> I wish I could tell you all of my favorite Christmas memories and some not so great ones too. Maybe coming up. It doesn't quite feel right to do it in the note to this fic.
> 
> I've worked so hard on it, trying to update every Saturday. It was only gonna be a one shot, I get kidnapped, you rescue me, kill the Elder and become his replacement. Then it grew into this very long tale. I'm happy with it. It's far from perfect but it came close in the realm of this series.
> 
> So, what would my Christmas gift have been to you. Well, first I would have found out your favorite cartoon couple. You know, Fred/Wilma, Mickey/Minnie, Yogi/Cindy.
> 
> Subsequently, I'd decide on just the right sex act for them to be performing. Fred behind Wilma, Minnie down on Mickey, Yogi making like in between Cindy's legs was his new favorite picnic basket.
> 
> Next step, I would have gotten a black piece of cardstock and drawn the cartoon couple doing the risque sex act in glue.
> 
> Then I would have somehow found a way to get sand from the Jordan Desert where Lawrence of Arabia was filmed, because I read once that you are a fan of the film and Peter O'Toole. I would take that sand then and put it on the cardstock, like I used to do in school with glitter.
> 
> And voila! There would be my Christmas gift to you: A "dirty" picture! ;D <3
> 
> Merry Christmas again to you and yours.
> 
> I love you very much.
> 
> Much love,  
> Erin  
> XO XO  
> :D <3


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